


The Reject

by blueberryphancakes



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Twins, Anxiety, Best Friends, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up Together, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, mentions of anxiety and depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-06-01 06:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 32,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6505543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueberryphancakes/pseuds/blueberryphancakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan might be a little bit in love with his best friend, but it’s okay. Phil doesn’t get crushes, at least as far as Dan can tell, so Dan has spent the last two years pining in secret while learning to accept the fact that Phil might never see him the same way.</p><p>And it’s fine. It is. He feels lucky to have Phil as a friend at all, and he is perfectly happy to keep things the way they are. But things are bound to change when he finds some pretty convincing evidence that Phil does get crushes. And, as it turns out, boys who look like Dan are exactly Phil’s cup of tea.</p><p>The only problem? The object of Phil’s affection is Dan’s twin brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the lovely bookwormisnotonfire, this story is now available in Russian! https://ficbook.net/readfic/5796796

**_March 2016_ **

Phil is zoning out again, and Dan has had enough.

“So then I thought: ‘You know what? Fuck school, I’m dropping out and becoming a stripper.’”

“Mm-hm.” Phil nods, continuing to stare at a point to the left of Dan’s face. He hasn’t even touched his food, and lunch started ten minutes ago.

“I figure I’ll call myself something really edgy,” Dan continues, reaching across the table to swipe Phil’s pudding cup off his tray. “Zack Firestarter or something like that. Instead of taking my clothes off, I could literally set them on fire and just have them burn off my body. What do you think?”

“Sounds good.”

“Phil.”

“Yeah?” It takes Phil a few seconds to shift his gaze towards Dan and another few for the glassy look in his eyes to be replaced with one of guilt.

“What was I just talking about?”

“Er,” Phil says, eyebrows lowering in concentration. “Kanye?”

Dan sighs. “A for effort.” He peels the top off the pudding cup and spoons some of the contents into his mouth. “Actually, you know what? C-minus. You didn’t try that hard.”

“But I did try some,” Phil points out. He cocks his head to the side, looking between Dan’s hands and his own tray. “Is that my pudding?”

“Not anymore,” Dan says around another spoonful.

Phil crosses his arms and pouts but doesn’t object. Dan rolls his eyes, taking the biscuit off his own tray and placing it onto Phil’s. Phil smiles as he picks it up and takes a bite.

“You’ll spoil your appetite if you eat dessert first,” Dan chides.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Phil says as he pops the last bite into his mouth. “You aren’t my real mum.”

“Sure I am. Now eat your peas.”

Phil does as he says, grimacing at the flavor of the mushy green vegetables.

“Wow,” Dan laughs. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Maybe I am your mum.”

“Shut up.”

Dan keeps laughing. When he has caught his breath, he says, “So, since I’ve finally got your attention, might I ask what’s been making you space out so much lately?”

Dan thinks he sees Phil’s cheeks turn slightly pink, but they are sitting at a picnic table outside and the air is chilly despite the fact that it is technically spring, so they might have been that way already. “Nothing,” he says. “Just thinking about school and stuff.”

“Phil, this is the one time during the school day when you  _don’t_ have to think about lessons.”

“I know,” Phil shrugs. “I guess I just—”

“Scoot over,” says a voice to Dan’s left. He looks up to see a face that matches his own looming over him.

“Piss off, Steve.”

“Dan,” Phil scolds. He scoots over on his own bench. “Here Steven, you can sit next to me.”

“Thanks, Phil,” Steven says, grinning smugly as he moves to the other side of the table and takes a seat. “Really, Dan, I don’t know how you managed to get such a nice friend, you being so hostile and all.”

“I am  _not_  hostile.”

Phil and Steven exchange a look, so Dan throws his empty pudding cup at them. It narrowly misses Steven’s head.

“See? That’s the kind of behavior I’m talking about.”

“Fuck you. What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you have your own friends to bother?”

Steven’s face goes sour. “They’re all over there with  _Erica_.” He points to a table behind and to the left of Dan.

“What’s wrong with that?” Dan says. “I would think you’d want to sit with Erica, considering that you’re dating her.”

“Not as of five minutes ago,” Steven says, stabbing his meatloaf.

Dan smirks. “What’d you do to make her dump you this time?”

“I didn’t do anything! And why do you assume that she dumped me?”

“Well,” Phil chimes in. “It did kind of look that way from here.” Dan and Steven both turn their attention to him. Now he is definitely blushing. “Sorry, I kind of, erm, saw.”

Dan raises his eyebrows. So that’s what Phil was looking at.

Steven sighs. “I don’t even know what I did. She’s just been really irritable all day, so I asked if it was that time of the month and she broke up with me.”

Dan and Phil both wince. “Bad move,” Phil says.

“I didn’t mean it like that! Just, like, I could have gotten her chocolate or something if she’d told me.”

“You could have taken a hint and gotten her chocolate without asking what’s going on in her underwear in front of everyone, dipshit,” Dan points out.

“Oh.” Steven’s face falls. “How come you know so much about girls if you don’t even like them?”

“I like them just fine. I just don’t want to sleep with them. And, to answer your question, because I’m not an asshole.”

“Had me fooled.”

“That’s it. I’m leaving.” Dan grabs his tray and starts to stand up. He feels a hand wrap around his wrist.

“Don’t go,” Phil says gently.

Dan can’t help it; his heart melts a little. He sits back down. “I was kidding. Mostly.”

“Sure,” Phil says before he turns back to Steven. “I’m sorry about Erica,” he says, placing a hand on Steven’s shoulder. Dan feels a surge of jealousy, but he tamps it down quickly.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Steven shrugs. “Minorly bummed, but not heartbroken. Besides, now I can finally ask Megan out.”

“You’re a pig,” Dan says. “And Megan is out of your league.”

“I’m going to wait a few days. I’m not that big of a dick.” He ruffles his own curls in that way that says he’s about to say something that will make Dan want to punch him. “Besides, if she’s out of my league, she’s out of yours. You know, since I’m the handsome twin.”

“First of all, doesn’t matter if Megan is out of my league, as we aren’t even playing the same game. And second of all,  _we have the same face._ ”

“He’s just jealous because I’m smarter  _and_  prettier,” Steven stage-whispers to Phil.

Phil snorts. Dan glares.

“Okay, you two,” Phil says. “As we only have a few minutes left before class, I’m going to try to finish my meatloaf. Try not to kill each other.”

“No promises,” Dan and Steven say in unison.

They remain mostly civil for the remainder of the lunch period, if for no other reason than they both know Phil doesn’t like it when they bicker. Dan can’t help but notice how Phil keeps glancing at Steven, though, and he wonders if the breakup is the only reason Phil has been staring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? That TomSka video got me thinking about what it would be like to have multiple people with Dan's face running around.
> 
> This is going to be a long one, guys. Not sure how long yet, but I've already written quite a few...well I don't want to call them chapters since some of them might later be combined...passages? I'm thinking every-other chapter will be a flashback, assuming I can find a way to distribute them that evenly. Next chapter will probably go up in a week or so.


	2. Chapter 2

**_April 2010_ **

Dan and Steven are ten years old when their parents announce that they are moving.

Steven is distraught by the news, complaining that all of his friends are in Wokingham. Dan doesn’t have any friends, so he doesn’t really care.

The week leading up to the move is spent with Dan checking and double-checking his packing lists to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything while Steven stomps around and refuses to pack at all. Their mother tries to pack for him, but Steven unpacks it all again, insisting that he won’t leave even if he has to stay in Wokingham all by himself. She eventually gives up, telling him that he can go to Manchester with nothing but the clothes on his back for all she cares. Dan has never seen her so livid.

Steven is meaner to Dan than usual that week, laughing at his checklists and calling him a wuss for going along with their parents' plan so easily. It’s ten o’clock the night before they leave when his anger finally turns to panic.

“It’s just, what if people in Manchester are different than the ones here?” he asks, tears running down his face. They were supposed to be in bed an hour ago. Instead, they are sitting on the floor in the middle of their shared bedroom, Steven spouting all of his fears while Dan listens in awe. Steven is supposed to be the brave twin. “What if they laugh at my accent and think I’m weird and I don’t make any friends?”

“First of all,” Dan says, “it’s the North. Their accents are way weirder than ours.”

Steven huffs in amusement, even as tears continue to spill down his cheeks.

“And second, doesn’t matter what the people are like; you’ll find something to bond with them over in no time. I’d give it a week before you’ve befriended half the school.”

“Really?” Steven says, trying in vain to dry his face with the back of his hand.

Dan rolls his eyes. “If anyone can make friends that fast, it’s you.”

Steven ducks his head, looking sheepish. “Hey Dan?” he says. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but…I’m sorry.”

“For what, acting like a royal prat all week?”

“That too,” Steven says. “But also for always leaving you out of things. I know you never had any luck making friends at school, and I know I didn’t help with that.”

“It’s not your job to help with that.”

“No, I guess not. But I could have invited you to hang out with me and my friends instead of ignoring you.”

Dan shrugs. “They might have liked you less if you had done that.”

Steven mirrors the gesture. “And now we’re moving and I’ll probably never see any of them again. But come tomorrow, you’ll still be my brother.”

Dan shoves his shoulder. “Okay, that’s enough cheese. Quit before I vom.”

Steven laughs, deciding not to retaliate for once. “I mean it though,” he says. “If it gets to be a week and you still don’t have any friends, I’m making you come sit with mine.”

“What happened to you thinking you wouldn’t make any friends?”

“What can I say?” Steven smirks. “You talked some sense into me.”

Dan shoves him again. Steven reaches over and flicks his neck.

“Ow!” Dan says, rubbing the spot. “You know I hate when you do that.”

“You asked for it.”

“So much for being nice to me.”

“I said I wouldn’t let you be friendless, not that I’d be nice to you. And I’m not even sure you’ll need my help.”

“We’ve been going to the same school since year one, and I haven’t made a single friend. What makes you think Manchester will be any different?”

Steven shrugs, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “Just a feeling, I guess.”

Dan rolls his eyes. Steven has been claiming that they have psychic twin powers since they watched a program on people with supernatural abilities last year. Dan thinks he’s full of shit. “Well I have a feeling Mum’s going to put you up for adoption if we leave late tomorrow because we have to wait for you to finish packing.”

Steven raises his eyebrows.

Dan realises his mistake immediately. “Oh no, I am not staying up late to help you pack. You got yourself into this mess.”

Steven sniffles, reminding Dan that he has been crying. Dan glares at him for a full minute before letting out a heavy sigh. “Fine. But you had better start being nice to me after this.”

“You’re the best brother in the whole world, Dan,” Steven says sweetly, a wide grin on his face.

Dan wrinkles his nose. “I think I liked you better when you were mean to me.”

“You’re so kind and thoughtful. And handsome!”

“You’re only saying that because we share a face.”

“And what great fashion sense! You know, black clothing is very in right now.”

“That’s it,” Dan says, lunging forward and clapping a hand over his brother’s mouth. “Compliment me one more time and you’ll be packing by yourself. Understood?”

Steven nods, but Dan can feel him smirking. “Mm-hm.”

Dan slowly removes his hand. Steven puts on a poor imitation of an innocent smile, and Dan squints at him suspiciously as he backs away. Steven starts grabbing clothes from his closet, and Dan turns around to get to work on the dresser.

Dan has packed exactly four shirts when Steven says, “And those checklists you made! Very smart.”

Dan throws a shirt at him.


	3. Chapter 3

_**March 2016** _

Steven doesn’t join them for lunch the next day. Dan spots him at his usual table — the one so over-packed with people that looking at it makes Dan feel claustrophobic — sporting a sly grin as he chats with Erica Landers. It isn’t clear whether they are back together or not; Steven has an annoying habit of making friends with everyone, even his exes.

Phil, however, continues to stare.

“You’re doing it again.”

Phil’s eyes snap back to his. “Doing what?”

“Looking at my brother’s table,” Dan says, because he can’t bring himself to say ‘ _looking at my brother.’_

Phil shrugs. “They’re kind of loud. Hard not to notice them.”

Dan frowns. It’s technically true. “I suppose.”

“Sorry if I’ve been sort of spacey lately,” Phil continues. “I’m just…tired, I guess.”

That appears to be true too. Dan didn’t notice before, but now that he looks closer, he sees that Phil’s eyes are slightly bloodshot and have the beginnings of dark circles underneath. Maybe Phil’s behaviour really is due to sleep deprivation.

Of course, that leaves the question of why Phil isn’t sleeping.

“Something keeping you up?”

Phil opens his mouth. Before he can reply, the bell rings to tell them that lunch is over.

Naturally.

“Nothing to worry about,” Phil says. Dan doesn’t miss the relief on his face.

* * *

 

Dan is worried.

To be fair, Dan is always worried. He worries about the future, present, and past, and he worries about the wellbeing of the people he cares about when all evidence points towards them being happy and safe. He can’t help it.

So when Phil starts acting strange, it’s only natural for Dan to jump to worst-case scenarios. Phil is depressed. Phil is dying. Phil doesn’t like him anymore.

(He hates himself for it, but it’s the last scenario that repeats in his head the most. Perhaps because he has always felt as though it would happen sooner or later).

There’s also the nagging feeling that Phil still likes him but likes Steven more, maybe in ways he could never like Dan. Which doesn’t make sense, because in all the years that Dan has known him, Phil has never expressed romantic interest in anyone. Why, now, would he suddenly develop feelings for Dan’s brother? His heterosexual brother, no less. It all sounds a bit unlikely, and even if it were true, it wouldn’t be as bad as Dan’s other fears by far.

Still, the idea nags at him.

It nags at him throughout the rest of the school day, and he finds himself zoning out in class even more than usual. Halfway through trigonometry, their last class of the day, he realises that he has been paying more attention to the way Phil’s hair falls over his eye as he scribbles in his notebook than what the teacher is writing on the board. Moments like these make him feel as though his worries about Phil staring at Steven are almost justified. Dan knows his own reasons for staring.

“Would you like a ride home?” Phil asks as they pack their bags at the end of the day, and Dan knows it means they won’t be spending the afternoon together. On days when Phil isn’t too busy with schoolwork, he asks, _“Do you want to come over?”_

“Sure,” Dan says, tamping down his disappointment. He and Phil don’t have to spend all day together, and they often don’t, but it feels like a blow after the kind of day he’s been having. He looks to the two drawings taped to the inside of his locker door — one of a star-filled tree and the other of an astronaut drifting through space — and feels his shoulders ease. It’s good to know, after all these years, that they still make him feel better.

Five minutes later, Dan climbs into the passenger seat of Phil’s yellow Austin Allegro and tries not to let his face betray his thoughts. Not that Phil would notice either way; he is too busy trying to get the car to start. It wheezes three times before roaring to life the fourth, and Muse filters through the tinny speakers, barely loud enough to be heard over the engine.

They don’t speak at all on the way to Dan’s house. This isn’t unusual; Phil is a quiet person by nature, and Dan isn’t exactly talkative. A good portion of their friendship consists of comfortable silences. Today, however, the silence isn’t comfortable. It’s full of feelings that Dan has been repressing for two years and questions he can’t ask, and he almost reaches over to turn the music up before remembering that Phil prefers it at a low volume.

The drive is short. Dan lives three blocks from school, but his house is on the way to Phil’s, so it makes sense for Phil to give him a lift most days. (At least, that’s what Dan tells himself when he is pretending it isn’t just a convenient excuse to do less exercise and spend more time with Phil). Yet it feels as though hours pass before they pull into the driveway.

“Thanks,” Dan says automatically, looking through the window instead of at Phil.

“Anytime,” Phil replies. “See you later, then?”

Dan realises he has made no movement to get out of the car. “Yeah. See you.” He pushes the door open and strides to the house without even looking Phil’s way.

The second he enters his room, he falls back on his bed, glad that Steven has debate team practice. On days like this, he prefers to be alone.

He runs a hand through his hair and tells himself he is being ridiculous. There is little to no chance that Phil actually has a crush on Steven. And even if he does, Dan long ago made peace with the fact that he and Phil are just friends. His heart still beats a little too fast when Phil is around, but that’s no reason to get jealous every time Phil pays attention to someone else.

And it isn’t as though Phil would abandon him if he did start dating. They’ve been best friends for six years. That’s way too long to throw it all away.

Right?


	4. Chapter 4

_**April 2010** _

Sure enough, halfway through their first day at the new school, Steven has already made three friends. Dan is completely unsurprised by this, though he is somewhat surprised when Steven stays true to his word and invites Dan to sit with them at lunch. Dan declines, not wanting to ruin Steven’s new friendships already, and sits at a table by himself.

What is most surprising is the black-haired boy who sits down next to him a minute later.

“I’m Phil,” the boy says without preamble. Dan doesn’t even have time to respond before the boy plops into the chair next to his and pulls out a piece of paper and a pencil case. Dan is so startled that he can’t speak for a moment. When he finally thinks to introduce himself, it has been too long and Phil is already absorbed in whatever he is drawing. He decides to eat in silence, and they don’t speak to each other again for the rest of the day.

The same thing happens the next day, only Phil doesn’t greet him at all. He just sits next to Dan and starts drawing, only pausing occasionally to take a bite of his sandwich. By the third day, Dan has grown suspicious.

“Did you tell Phil to sit next to me?” he asks while he and Steven are doing their homework. At least, Dan is doing his homework. Steven appears to be folding his into a fortuneteller.

“Phil?” Steven says, looking up from his ruined worksheet. “Oh, you mean the pasty-faced kid you’re always with at lunch?”

“Who else could I possibly be talking about?”

Steven shrugs. “Never spoken to him. Glad to see you’ve made a friend though.”

“He isn’t my friend. We don’t even talk to each other.”

“Why not?” Steven asks, scribbling something on the flaps of the fortuneteller.

“I’m serious.” Dan plucks the pencil out of Steven’s hand, ignoring the protests that follow. “You can’t just go around telling people to be my friend. It’s not working, and if word gets around, it’ll make me look even more pathetic.”

“I’m serious too.” Steven grabs his pencil back and continues to write. “I don’t know why he decided to sit next to you, but I didn’t have anything to do with it.” He holds out the finished fortuneteller. “Pick a color.”

“Black,” Dan says. “So why does he keep doing it if he isn’t going to talk to me?”

“B-L-A-C-K. Beats me. Maybe he just likes you. Pick a number.”

“Four. And no one likes me.”

“One-two-three-four. Pretty sure Mum does. Another number.”

“Eight. That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t read too much into it,” Steven says, lifting the flap. “I’m still her favourite.”

Dan tries to kick him under the table, but Steven moves his leg out of the way just in time. “What’s it say?”

“You are a nerd.”

“Give me that.” Dan grabs the fortuneteller and lifts the flaps one by one. They all say the same thing. He crumples it before throwing it at Steven’s chest.

“Hey!” Steven says. “I worked hard on that.”

“Yes, and if you worked half as hard in school, you might just get straight A’s.”

“Ha! So you admit that I’m the smart twin.”

Dan swings his foot at Steven’s shin again. This time, he doesn’t miss.


	5. Chapter 5

**_March 2016_ **

“Is Phil joining us for dinner?”

Dan looks up from his chemistry book to see his mother gathering plates out of the cabinet. Before he has a chance to tell her that he doesn’t know, he is interrupted by the boy sitting across from him.

“Probably.”

Dan narrows his eyes at Steven, who is busy texting while his history book lies closed in front of him. “How do you know that? Did he say something?”

Steven glances up from his phone. “No, I just kind of figured he would since it’s been a few days and since you don’t appear to be going over to his tonight. Considering how you two are joined at the hip and all.”

“We are not,” Dan says, hiding his face behind his textbook in the hopes that Steven won’t see how red his cheeks are.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you blushing?”

Damn.

“Well whether he’s coming or not, I need a place to set these down,” their mother says, walking to the dining table with five plates. “Honestly, boys, you have a perfectly nice desk in your room. I don’t know why neither of you uses it.”

“Steven uses it,” Dan points out as he closes his textbook and moves it onto his lap. “He uses it as a bin, which is why _I_ can’t use it.”

“The things on the desk aren’t trash,” Steven says. “They’re mementos.”

“If by mementos you mean the phone numbers of girls you’ll never call and those gossip magazines you read, then sure. They’re mementos.”

“They’re celebrity news magazines, and it’s rude to throw someone’s phone number away. Besides, maybe I’d have a place to put those things if I had my own room.”

“You know we can’t afford a three-bedroom house in this neighborhood,” their mother says as she finishes setting the table.

“Oh, I wasn’t suggesting we move. Dan can just sleep in the lounge.”

“Hey!”

“Nobody’s sleeping in the lounge. Now quit bickering and go wash up. And tell your father dinner’s ready. I think he’s in his office tinkering with that telescope again.”

“Yes, Mum,” they both say.

Steven leans against a wall and goes back to texting as soon as they leave the dining room, so Dan walks to their father’s office alone.

The office is just a five-by-eight area in the corner of the lounge, separated from the rest of the room by a wooden partition. It doesn’t actually block out any noise, but the whole family knows that, when Mr. Howell is in there, he is only to be disturbed for emergencies and food. Today, Dan finds him with his head bent over the old black telescope that pokes through the open window, squinting through the eyepiece.

“Dad?” Dan says, rapping his knuckles against the partition.

Mr. Howell jumps, wire-rimmed glasses falling from the top of his head to his nose as he looks up and searches for the source of the interruption. His eyes land on Dan and he pushes the glasses up with his forefinger.

“Oh. Dan. Didn’t hear you coming.”

“Mum says it’s time for dinner.”

“Right, right.” He nods. “Come here and do me a favour first?”

“Sure,” Dan shrugs, stepping through the gap between the partition and the wall. He bends down to look through the eyepiece of the telescope, already knowing what the favour is.

“What do you see?”

Dan shakes his head before standing up straight again. “Nothing,” he says.

“Damn,” his father says. “I was hoping it was just my poor eyesight. I really thought I had it this time.”

The telescope has been Mr. Howell’s prized possession since before Dan can remember. When Dan was young and his fear of the dark would keep him from sleeping, he would wake his father, who was a much lighter sleeper than his mother, and Mr. Howell would take him into the back yard to look through the telescope at the sky. Even then, the telescope was far from top of the line, and the stars Dan saw through it were only larger, slightly blurry versions of the pinpricks of light he could see with his naked eyes, but it made the dark seem friendlier nonetheless.

The light pollution is worse at the house in Manchester than it was at the one in Wokingham, so the telescope has remained mostly unused over the last six years. Still, that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a tragedy for the whole family when Mrs. Howell’s sister, drunk on eggnog from a family Christmas party that no one but Steven wanted to attend, accidentally knocked it over, shattering the pieces inside. That was three months ago, and Mr. Howell has been working on it every evening that he has time since.

(Despite his love of space, Mr. Howell doesn’t actually know anything about telescopes — his dream of being an astronomer was long ago replaced with the practicality of being an accountant — but that doesn’t stop him from trying).

“I’m sure you’ll get it working soon,” Dan says, even though it doesn’t seem likely. In secret, Dan has been saving up to buy him a new telescope for a while, and he has even convinced Steven to pitch in. Still, he knows the sentimental value that the old one holds, and he hopes that his father can fix it.

There is a knock at the front door, and before Dan can answer it, he hears it creak open.

“Hi,” Phil’s voice rings down the hall.

“Hey man, you’re just in time for dinner,” Steven’s voice answers back.

Dan clenches his fists before remembering that his father can see him. He unclenches them slowly and tries to get his shoulders to relax. Things are okay between him and his father again — less awkward than they’ve been in months — but that doesn’t mean he wants either of his parents to know that he’s so gone on his best friend that he gets jealous when he isn’t the first one to greet him at the door. It’s a silly thing to be jealous over anyway.

Dan and Mr. Howell enter the dining room just as Steven, Phil, and Mrs. Howell sit down at the table. His father immediately takes the seat next to his mother, but Dan hesitates in the doorway. The only seat left is between Steven and their dad. And it shouldn’t matter. It’s not as if he needs to sit next to Phil. It’s just that he and Phil always sit next to each other — whether at the dinner table or at school — and he has come to take it as a given. Seeing Phil choose to sit next to Steven instead makes Dan’s stomach twist.

“Hey,” Dan says, watching his friend’s expression as he sits in the remaining chair.

Phil looks at him and smiles. “Hello, Dan.” He says it with just as much fondness as usual, but he doesn’t offer any explanation as to why he has decided to switch seats.

“So, how was school?” Mrs. Howell asks.

“Fine,” Dan and Steven reply as they both grab for the mashed potatoes. Steven gets to them a fraction of a second faster, and he shoots Dan a smug grin as he shovels out more than he will eat.

“And what about you, Phil?”

“It was good, Mrs. Howell,” Phil says, scooping green beans onto his plate even though he doesn’t like them. “We had a chemistry lab today and I didn’t even spill anything.”

“Phil Lester, you’ve been coming ‘round for dinner at least once a week for six years now. When are you going to start calling me Melissa?”

“One day, I promise,” Phil responds, as always. “Give me another year or two to get used to it.”

The rest of the meal passes almost normally. Steven prattles on about the upcoming debate competition while Mrs. Howell tries to fill any potential silences with questions directed at each person in turn. When everyone is finished eating, Phil offers to help clean up (as he always does), and Dan’s parents refuse to let him (as they always do). Then Phil glances at his watch and says that he has to go.

“You can’t stay and play video games?” Dan asks, following Phil into the hall.

“Sorry,” Phil says, wincing. “I have a lot of schoolwork.” He looks and sounds genuinely apologetic, but he picks at his fingernails while he says it. It’s a tic that Dan has only seen a few times, but he recognises it instantly.

Phil is lying.

(He hopes that Phil is just too nice to say he isn’t in the mood for video games tonight. That would be like him. Then again, Phil hasn’t been very much like Phil at all lately).

“Oh.” Dan can’t even muster the energy to try not to sound disappointed anymore. “See you tomorrow, then?”

“Yep.” Phil hoists his backpack onto his shoulder and opens the door. “See you,” he says as he ducks outside, jogging through the dark to the safety of his car.

As Dan watches the Allegro’s headlights fade into the distance, he almost wishes — for the first time in his life — that Phil hadn’t shown up at all.


	6. Chapter 6

_**April 2010** _

On his fourth day of school, Dan looks over Phil’s shoulder during lunch and sees a half-finished drawing of a winged insect.

“Is that a butterfly or a moth?” Dan wonders. He doesn’t realise he said it out loud until Phil replies.

“Why?” Phil doesn’t look up.

“I’m scared of moths,” Dan admits. He doesn’t know why he is telling this to someone he has never even spoken to, even if he does sit next to that person every day. He braces himself for the taunting that will surely follow.

“Then it’s a butterfly,” Phil says. He grabs a marker from his pencil pouch and starts coloring the butterfly a brilliant blue.

Dan wonders if he should thank him. It isn’t as if the image of a moth scares him; he doesn’t even know why he mentioned it. Still, the fact that Phil decided to make it be a butterfly specifically because Dan is afraid of moths makes warmth bloom in his chest.

“I’m Dan,” he says.

“I know.” Phil points to the name on Dan’s lunchbox, and Dan wonders for a moment if he is being teased, but the smile on Phil’s face is not unkind.

It makes him feel brave.

“You’re really good at drawing,” he says, and he means it.

Phil’s smile grows wider. “Thanks. I like your hair.”

Dan wrinkles his nose. He hates his hair. It’s curly and messy and it makes him look too much like Steven, who inexplicably suits curly hair. “I wish it was straight like yours,” Dan says.

Phil’s expression goes from smiley to serious in two seconds flat. “You shouldn’t wish to be anything you aren’t.”

Dan feels his cheeks grow warm, though he can’t say why. Phil might be the strangest person he has ever met, but his wide, blue eyes seem to be looking through him, and Dan couldn’t laugh right now even if he wanted to. And he doesn’t want to. All he wants, for whatever reason, is to be Phil’s friend.

“Do you ever draw the stars?” Dan finds himself asking. It might be a weird question, but he is already certain that Phil won’t judge him for it.

Phil appears to think about this for a minute before suddenly going back to his drawing.

Dan’s heart sinks. Maybe Phil doesn’t want to be his friend after all.

“Not usually,” Phil says, taking Dan by surprise again. “I prefer sunrises.”

“You’re a morning person?” Dan asks. He wonders if this could be a deal-breaker, as he is the complete opposite of a morning person.

“Not exactly,” he says, adding yellow to the butterfly. “Mornings are no fun if you’re in a rush or if you wake up too late to enjoy them. But on a day off from school, if you happen to wake up early, they’re nice. You get to watch the world go from darkness to color, and you get to hear the birds wake up. That’s my favourite thing to draw.”

“But you can’t draw the sound of birds waking up.”

Phil looks up at him again and raises his eyebrows. “Says who?”


	7. Chapter 7

**_March 2016_ **

“Do you think Phil is hiding something?”

On the other side of the room, sitting cross-legged on his bed and typing rapidly on his phone, Steven snorts but doesn’t look up. “Phil is always hiding something.”

“Not from me he isn’t,” Dan insists, hunched over on his own bed with his back to the wall and his knees to his chest. He grew tired of browsing the internet ten minutes ago and didn’t feel like doing homework, so his laptop is tucked under his bed while the crisis within him brews.

“He kept his anime obsession from you for three years. He probably would have taken it to the grave if you hadn’t turned into a giant weeb in year nine.”

“I’m not a weeb. And he tells me all the important stuff. Usually.”

“And what exactly do you think he’s hiding from you now that’s so important?”

“I don’t know.” He chews his lip while he decides how much he wants to say. “He’s just been acting weird lately. And he didn’t sit next to me at dinner tonight.” He neglects to mention that he’s almost certain that Phil has been lying to him. Steven will probably think he’s paranoid.

“Weren’t you just telling me how you two _weren’t_ joined at the hip?”

“Shut up, I’m serious. Do you think he’s mad at me?”

“Phil doesn’t get mad.”

“You don’t think he’s been acting weird, though?”

“No, but you are.” Steven sets his phone on his nightstand and turns to give Dan his full attention. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?”

“ _Nothing_ ,” Dan insists.

Steven studies him for a moment, eyes narrowing before his expression changes into a knowing one. “Ohhh, this is about that crush of yours, isn’t it? Good to see that’s still going strong.”

“What crush?” Dan says without conviction. Steven doesn’t bring up Dan’s feelings for Phil often, but when he does, Dan’s response is always the same.

“Sure.” Steven rolls his eyes. “I forgot. You and Phil are just best friends. Platonic bros who can totally sit one seat apart without one of you flipping out.” His eyes widen. “Oh.”

“What ‘oh’?”

“Oh,” Steven repeats, a wicked grin slowly spreading across his face. “You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. You’re jealous because Phil sat next to the wrong twin.”

“Steven…”

“He did it at lunch yesterday too. Bet when it happened twice in the same week it really drove you mad.”

Dan scoffs. “You were the one who went and sat down next to him at lunch.”

“I know that, and you know that, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t make you jealous anyway.”

“Can we drop this now?”

“What are you afraid of?” Steven asks, ignoring Dan’s request. “Now that I’m single I’m going to start batting for the other team and steal Phil away?”

“I mean it…”

“Or has it just gotten so bad that you can’t bear to see him be near anyone who isn’t you?”

“For fuck’s sake.”

“You know, Daniel, green really doesn’t suit you.”

“I. Am not. Jealous.” Dan clenches his fists so hard that his nails dig into his palms painfully.

“Sure you’re not.” Right then, Steven’s phone buzzes. He picks it up and goes back to texting, but he still wears a smirk that Dan knows is directed at him.

“I’m going to sleep, Dan says, switching off his bedside lamp and lying down facing the wall. He lies there, perfectly still but wide-awake, for about fifteen minutes before he hears Steven switch off his own lamp.

“By the way,” Steven says a minute later, “if I ever do decide to experiment with a guy—which, not gonna lie, will probably happen at some point—it won’t be Phil. I know he’s off-limits.” He yawns, and when he speaks again, his voice is barely more than a murmur. “Pretty sure the whole school knows that.”

“Yeah?” Dan says, staring resolutely at the chipped paint on the wall in front of him. “And why’s that?”

Steven’s chuckle comes out slightly muffled. “Because he’s already yours.”

“Phil is not _mine_.”

Steven doesn’t respond. Dan huffs in exasperation and turns to face the other bed. In the dim, orange glow cast by the streetlight outside, he can barely see his twin’s face where it is nestled into his pillow, eyes closed as though he has already fallen asleep. The big faker.

“Dick,” Dan whispers before turning over once more and pulling the covers over his head. He closes his eyes and tries to sleep. When sleep doesn’t come, he spends the night trying to convince himself that nothing Steven said is true.

(Not because he doesn’t want it to be, though).


	8. Chapter 8

_**April 2010** _

On Monday, Dan couldn’t wait for his first week of school to be over. Four days later, he is sad that the weekend is coming to take him away from the first potential friend he has ever had. He wakes up Friday morning feeling excited, but he soon becomes nervous that the day before was a fluke and that he and Phil will go back to spending lunch ignoring each other.

These fears prove to be unwarranted.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Phil asks the second he sets his lunch tray down in its usual spot next to Dan’s.

Dan is relieved that Phil has decided to speak to him again, but he isn’t prepared to answer a question like that so suddenly. “Oh gosh, I don’t know,” he says, tapping a plastic spork against his lips. “Pilot maybe? Something where I get to go far away and have adventures.”

“What about an astronaut?”

Dan laughs.

“What? I thought you liked stars.”

Dan is surprised and flattered that Phil remembers that, but he decides not to acknowledge it. “You can’t just be an astronaut.”

“Why not?” Phil asks. “Plenty of people have done it.”

“Okay, some people can, but not that many. Besides, astronauts have to be really brave and stuff.”

“And you aren’t?” Phil is giving him that look again. The one that says he would know the answer to this question if he would just open his mind a little.

Dan studies the spork so he doesn’t have to meet Phil’s eyes. He knows he should probably downplay his insecurities around someone he wants to be friends with, but he can’t bring himself to lie. “I’m afraid of the dark,” he mumbles. He chances a glance at Phil and finds no judgement in his features. “Something about it always seems so...so big and lonely. I only like looking at the stars when someone’s there with me or when I’m inside looking through a window.”

“But if you were an astronaut, you’d be inside a spaceship.”

“Spaceships are a lot scarier than houses.”

“Only because you’ve never lived in one.”

Dan doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he goes back to eating his lunch.

Phil, however, continues to stare. “One day, Dan,” he says after several seconds. “One day you’re going to realise how special you are. I’ll make sure of it.”

* * *

“I made you something,” Phil announces when they arrive at school on Monday.

It isn’t even lunchtime yet. Dan has just walked in the door and hasn’t even set his backpack down, but Phil is holding out a manilla envelope and staring at him with anticipation, and Dan doesn’t care how heavy his books are.

He takes the envelope and opens it to find a gel pen drawing on black construction paper. A blue and purple nebula dances across the page, and there must be hundreds of stars dotted throughout. In the center of the picture is a tiny astronaut.

“I realised after I did it that the idea of floating around in space might be kind of terrifying, but I felt like adding a spaceship would throw everything off balance, and then I thought how in twenty years we might have invisible spaceships, so if you want—”

Dan cuts him off with a bone-crushing hug. “It’s perfect,” he says. A few of their classmates see them and start to giggle, but Dan doesn’t care. He pulls back, eyes wandering to the picture again. “What’s this for, anyway?”

“You, silly.”

“No, I mean, what’s the occasion? It’s not my birthday.”

“Oh,” Phil says. “No occasion.”

Dan chews his lip. “But I didn’t get you anything.”

“You gave me a very nice hug. That’s as good a present as any, in my book. Besides, my mum says feeling like you have to get someone a present takes away from the niceness of it. People should give their friends presents just because they want to.”

“And that’s what we are?” Dan asks, trying not to sound too hopeful. “Friends?”

Phil laughs, and the sound is light and bubbly. Dan likes it immediately.

“I should hope so,” Phil says.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several things!
> 
> 1) Notice the new tags. I’m listing “anxiety” and “mentions of anxiety and depression” as two separate warnings for a reason. I don’t think it’s a spoiler to tell you that the “anxiety” warning pertains to Dan, who I seem to have inadvertently given some of my own anxiety issues in this fic (oops). This has been alluded to in previous chapters, but I felt it showed up extra in this chapter, so I thought I’d list it as a precaution. As for “mentions of”...well, I don’t want to spoil too much, but if you have any concerns (before or after reading the chapter), you can always send me a private message on tumblr (blueberryphancakes.tumblr.com) and I would be happy to tell you more.
> 
> 2) Sorry this update is coming a bit later than usual. When I started posting this story, I'd already written a lot of it, but this was one chapter I'd been putting off for a while (for no particular reason other than it was one of those chapters where I was like "and there I'll put...something, probably"). Fortunately, all the even numbered chapters are now done (minus editing) so that means the next chapter will be up very soon (it also means I now know how long this story will be: 20 chapters, in case you were curious).
> 
> 3) Thank you all so much for the kudos and the lovely reviews. They honestly make my day. <3

**_March 2016_ **

Despite Dan’s efforts not to get his hopes up, Steven’s words make an impact.

He doesn’t go so far as to believe that Phil likes him as more than a friend, but he feels somewhat relieved that other people seem to think he might. After all, their friendship must be pretty strong if their classmates think they are secretly dating. Exhausted but reassured, he goes to school the next day feeling foolish for making a big deal out of nothing.

Until he actually gets there and finds that Phil is even more out of it than he was the day before.

“Are you alright?” Dan whispers during English. Not only is it their first class of the day, but it’s Phil’s favourite class other than art. Yet Phil doesn’t seem to be paying much attention, staring blankly at the board and not even pretending to take notes, and Dan has seen him yawn four times.

“Hm?” Phil says, taking several seconds to register Dan’s question. His head swings around slowly, and the eyes that meet Dan’s are bloodshot and ringed with even darker circles than they were before. “Oh, mm-hm.” He looks back to the board with no further explanation.

Now Dan is really worried.

He corners Phil in the hallway before their next class. “Did you sleep at all last night?” He’s a hypocrite, he knows, but at this point he’s much more concerned about Phil’s poor sleeping habits than his own.

“A little,” Phil yawns. “I don’t remember the sun coming up, so I must have been asleep for that.”

“And the rest of the night?”

Phil shrugs. “I had trouble finishing the chemistry homework.” Dan glances down as subtly as he can. Sure enough, Phil is picking at his fingernails.

“You know you could have phoned me,” Dan says. “Science is like the one thing I’m actually good at.”

“I know,” Phil says. Pauses. Sways a bit. “And that’s not true. You’re good at lots of things.”

Dan wants to point out that Phil still hasn’t explained why he didn’t bother calling Dan for help, but then the bell rings and they have to rush off to avoid being late for class.

The rest of the week passes in a similar fashion. Phil continues to look tired and spacey, and whenever Dan asks if he is okay, Phil makes up some excuse about staying up late to study. And okay, maybe they have reached the age where school is getting harder and grades matter more, but making A’s has always been easy for Phil, and when he does get the occasional B, he doesn’t stress out about it. Even if Dan didn’t know Phil well enough to be able to tell when he is lying, the C-plus Phil gets on his English test on Thursday says that he hasn’t been studying as much as he claims.

Or maybe he has. Against his better judgement, Dan turns to Google to research causes of sudden insomnia and behavior changes. He finds that Phil could be suffering from anxiety or depression, and he suddenly has bigger things to worry about than Phil not wanting to be his friend anymore.

On Friday, Dan brings his laptop and as many snacks as he can fit in his backpack to school, and he pulls Phil into an empty classroom the second the lunch period begins. Phil looks puzzled at first, but when Dan hands him a bag of pre-popped popcorn and starts playing the _Twilight Zone_ DVD on his laptop, Phil beams at him. Despite Phil’s tired eyes, it still feels like the sun coming out.

For a moment, Dan feels like everything might be okay.

Then Phil asks if they should invite Steven, as the DVD is technically his, and Dan is back to square one.

Dan sends his brother a begrudging invite over text so Phil won’t suspect that anything is wrong. Thankfully, Steven declines, and Dan and Phil settle back against the wall by the door, leaning into each other’s shoulders a little. It would be nice, if only Dan’s brain could shut up for a minute.

And okay, the DVD they are watching is part of a box set that a misguided aunt gave as a present to Steven after misunderstanding his fascination with the supernatural, but Dan and Phil are the ones who commandeered it a few months ago. It’s their thing. This whole plan of sneaking around to watch telly during lunch was supposed to be just for them, and the idea that Phil wants to bring someone else into it — someone Phil has been paying extra attention to lately, no less — makes Dan’s stomach churn.

But then Dan remembers why he came up with this plan in the first place, and he is back to worrying about Phil’s mental health again.

His thoughts keep circling like that, the rational part of his mind nearly talking him out of one fear before the next one crops up. Phil likes Steven, or he doesn’t like Dan anymore, or he likes Steven more than Dan, or he’s depressed or otherwise unwell, or it’s nothing and Dan is overreacting.

Dan really hopes he’s overreacting.

It isn’t even unlikely. Dan’s always been a worrier, and worrying often leads to overreacting. But the possibility exists that something really could be wrong, either with his friendship with Phil or with Phil himself, and that scares him.

The next thing Dan knows, the episode has ended and he realises he has no idea what it was about.

“We’re going to have to go to class soon,” Phil mumbles into Dan’s shoulder.

Dan’s thoughts come to an abrupt halt. He glances down at his shoulder and wonders how long Phil’s head has been resting there and how he managed not to notice.

“This was really nice though,” Phil continues, smiling up at him, and Dan feels his heart stutter. “Thank you.”

Dan should say ‘you’re welcome.’ He should tell Phil that he had a nice time too, even though he was so busy worrying that he really didn’t. He should say _something_.

But he can’t. The look of contentment on Phil’s face makes his throat close up, and all he can manage is a nod.

In his mind, however, he makes a decision.

Regardless of his own fears, Dan is going to keep doing things like this. This is the first time in a week that he has seen Phil look genuinely happy, and he is going to do everything in his power to see him smile like that again. Because Phil is his best friend, and the thought of him being unhappy is infinitely worse than anything else Dan has imagined. So he’s going to be a good friend. He’s going to make sure Phil is okay.

He just hopes he can keep himself from falling apart too.


	10. Chapter 10

_**December 2013** _

Phil is the reason Dan realises he is gay in the first place.

In retrospect, this should come as no surprise. But, as with all things concerning Phil, it catches him off guard.

By the time he turns fourteen, Dan has officially stopped wondering when hormones will kick in and make him suddenly start wanting something from girls other than friendship. Granted, he doesn’t really have any close friends who are girls. He gets along well with his science partner, Louise, but Phil is the only person outside of his family whom he intentionally sees outside of school. 

As teenagers, he and Phil are still nearly inseparable, each boy making such regular appearances at the other’s house that their respective families don’t bat an eye anymore when they find an extra setting at the dinner table. Phil is still pretty quiet around anyone who isn’t Dan, and Dan is still the human embodiment of awkwardness, so it’s no surprise that neither of them has ever had a girlfriend. (Meanwhile, Steven has gone through half a dozen or so). What’s weirder, though, is that they never even talk about girls, at least in that context.

Dan knows why he doesn’t talk about girls. Despite the uncomfortable talk his father had with him and Steven a few years back where he explained the changes they would soon be going through and told them how pretty soon they’d start seeing girls in a way they never had before, Dan still hasn’t had a crush on one in his life. Steven had announced as soon as the talk was over that Dad was a bit late and that he already liked girls, but Dan had been busy mentally going through a list of every girl he knew and trying to imagine kissing them. The images didn’t exactly gross him out, but they didn’t excite him either.

He obsessed about his lack of attraction to girls for about a year after that, but he has mostly gotten over it by now. No girl would want to date him anyway, so it’s probably a good thing that he isn’t pining after any of them. Maybe he just hasn’t met the right girl, he thinks. After all, it took him ten years just to find his first friend.

He has no idea if Phil has ever had a crush. Even though he talks more to Dan than he does to anyone else, Phil is a fairly private person. It’s okay though. Dan trusts that Phil will tell him anything he deems important.

(With Phil, ‘important’ might mean the way an old song made him feel nostalgic for things he’s never had or how nice the sky looked on a particular morning, but that is beside the point).

Eventually, Dan manages to convince himself that there is nothing to worry about. Life is good, he realises, and even missing out on part of adolescence that most of his classmates seem to be going through isn’t enough to ruin it.

In the four years since the move, he has grown to love Manchester. He has a best friend who might just be the greatest person in the world, and he is even enjoying school to some extent. (Well, really just science class, but it’s enough to make the parts of school when he can’t talk to Phil a little more tolerable). For his and Steven’s fourteenth birthday, their parents adopt a Tibetan terrier. They name it Colin, and on bad days, Dan finds comfort in cuddling the small dog to his chest. He starts straightening his hair so people can finally tell him apart from Steven (he doesn’t know why people didn’t just look at their clothes; Dan wouldn’t be caught dead in one of Steven’s pastel button-ups). His voice even stops cracking.

For once in his life, Dan feels happy and comfortable in his skin. He lets his guard down and enjoys life to the best of his ability, content with his family and his dog and his best friend.

That’s when it happens.


	11. Chapter 11

_**March 2016** _

Phil looks more rested when they arrive at school on Monday, and Dan feels somewhat relieved despite the fact that he hasn’t gotten much sleep himself.

“How was your weekend?” Dan asks as they make their way to English, and the question feels strange on his tongue. He can’t remember the last time he and Phil went the whole weekend without seeing or talking to each other, but that’s exactly what happened.

(Granted, this is at least half Dan’s fault. He could have invited Phil over, but something in his brain told him that feeling lonely was better than being rejected).

“It was good!” Phil says, as chipper as ever. “Watched some anime, caught up on sleep…oh! And I saw this enormous squirrel…”

Phil babbles quietly about his weekend as they take their usual seats at the back of the classroom. Dan nods at what he hopes are the appropriate times, but his mind is still stuck on something.

“What anime did you watch?” He doesn’t mean to say it aloud, but once the words leave his mouth, there is no taking them back.

Phil, who is in the middle of a story about his newest cactus, stops. “Oh,” he says, eyebrows lowering in concern. “Just rewatched a little Death Note. I would have invited you,” he rushes to add, “but—”

“It’s fine,” Dan interjects. He knows he’s being rude by interrupting, but he doesn’t want to hear whatever excuse Phil is going to come up with this time. He just doesn’t. “You’re allowed to watch anime without me. Besides, I was busy this weekend too.”

“Oh? Doing what?” From anyone else, that question would sound accusatory, but Phil sounds genuinely curious.

“Studying,” he lies.

If Phil notices that Dan borrowed his own lame excuse, he doesn’t say so. He simply nods, staring at Dan for a moment before turning to face the front. The teacher clears her throat to start class, and any chance to continue the conversation is lost for the time being.

* * *

“So what were you drawing?” Dan asks as they walk out of trig at the end of the day.

“Hm?” Phil says. Whether he is distracted again or just pretending to be oblivious, Dan isn’t sure.

Dan points to the books in Phil’s arms, one of which he had seen Phil hastily close the second the bell rang. “I know that’s your sketchbook and not your notebook.”

Phil looks down. “Oh.”

“So?” Dan says as they arrive at their lockers. “Are you gonna show me?”

“No,” Phil says too quickly, clutching the sketchbook tightly to his chest. “I mean, it isn’t finished. And it’s probably no good anyway.”

Phil has always been a little secretive about his drawings, only intentionally showing Dan the ones that are finished and that he is truly proud of, but he’s never seemed quite this protective of them.

“Okay,” Dan says. He decides to drop it for now. “So are you coming over today? I just got Fallout 4.”

“Not today. Sorry.” He doesn’t even bother with an excuse this time.

“Oh. Maybe tomorrow then?”

“Maybe,” Phil says. His phone buzzes and he glances at it with wide eyes. “Shoot, I have to go.”

“How come?”

“Appointment,” Phil explains as he fumbles his books into his locker and begins pulling other books out.

Phil always tells him when he has to go to the doctor or dentist during a time when they usually hang out. He doesn’t remember Phil telling him about any appointment. Phil isn’t picking at his nails either, but then again, it’s probably hard to do so when he is busy shoving things into his backpack. Dan wonders whether Phil forgot to tell him or has just gotten better at lying.

Given his recent behaviour, both options seem equally likely.

“Wait,” Phil says. “Do we have maths homework?”

“We always have maths homework.”

Phil huffs, taking his textbook back out of his locker and shoving it into his backpack. “Can you text me what the assignment is later?”

“Sure,” Dan says, noticing that Phil’s sketchbook is still in his locker. He should probably mention it; Phil never goes anywhere without his sketchbook, at least not on purpose. But he keeps his mouth shut, wondering if Phil will notice.

Phil doesn’t notice, and a few seconds later he is slinging his bag over one shoulder and turning to speed-walk down the hallway, throwing a “see you later” over his shoulder.

He doesn’t even offer to give Dan a ride.

“Yeah, see you,” Dan mutters. He waits until Phil is out of the building before turning to Phil’s locker.

He shouldn’t do it.

Then again, Phil technically only said he wouldn’t _show_ Dan his latest drawing. He never said Dan couldn’t look at it himself. Besides, Phil told him his locker combination a long time ago. He had to have known Dan might snoop.

_Or Phil was trusting him,_  he thinks with a sickening churn in his stomach.

This is ridiculous. Phil just thought his drawing wasn’t any good. Which is silly, because Phil’s drawings are always good, even before he finishes them. Phil doesn’t consider a drawing done until it is coloured vibrantly, but even his quick sketches never fail to impress Dan. His best friend is truly one of the most talented people he knows, despite Phil’s doubts in his own abilities.

Phil doesn’t need to know.

Without further hesitation, Dan spins the lock.

It won’t open.

He tries again, going slowly to make sure his gets the combination right. 19-1-81.

The lock won’t budge.

Maybe Phil changed it.

He tries Phil’s birthday. He tries all zeros, then all nines, then 1-2-3-4.

Nothing.

Finally, he has one last idea. He spins the lock again. 11-6-99.

He hears a click.

Dan thinks back to the last time Phil asked him to get something that he forgot from his locker. It was only about a month ago. Which means sometime in the last month, Phil must have changed the combination to Dan’s birthday.

_And Steven’s,_  he remembers.

He opens the locker and takes out Phil’s sketchbook. He’s seen most of the drawings before, flipping through page after page of bright flowers and happy dogs. Finally, he comes to one he doesn’t recognise.

His stomach drops.

The image has been scribbled through as though Phil got frustrated and gave up. It doesn’t even look like he finished the line art, a pair of eyes and a mouth and nose the only things on the page. Phil almost never draws people, but when he does, he draws the whole person, at least from the shoulders up. He never draws just parts.

Still, the face staring back at him from the page is unmistakable.

It’s Dan’s face.

_Or Steven’s._  His stomach drops.

He flips to the next page. It offers something similar, this time with the rough outline of a head. Again, the picture has scribble marks on it.

The third new drawing he finds isn’t scribbled through, and it looks like it is almost done. The boy in the picture has his head angled so he is shown mostly in profile, a wide smile on his face. It is the same face that appeared in the last two pictures. His hair falls over one eyebrow.

His  _curly_  hair.

Dan swallows, closing the sketchbook and carefully placing it back in Phil’s locker. He closes and relocks the locker with shaking hands.

He thinks he is going to be sick.

For years, he hoped that Phil found him attractive, even if he knew they’d probably never be together. Now he has conclusive evidence that Phil does, and he really wishes he didn’t.

“Hey loser, why aren’t you on your way home with Phil?”

Dan turns around to face his twin, doing his best to school his face into a neutral expression.

Steven’s face falls, his usual cocky smile replaced with a concerned frown. Stupid twin telepathy. “What’s wrong?”

Dan shakes his head. “Nothing.” He knows his voice cracks, but he can’t be bothered to care.

Steven doesn’t press it. He probably knows anyway. He slings his arms around his brother’s shoulders and guides him to the exit. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go home.” From Steven, it’s practically a hug and reassurance that everything will be okay.

Dan knows that it won’t be though.

How can anything be okay when his best friend has a crush on his brother?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight change of plans: I've decided I will probably write an epilogue, meaning that there will actually be 21 chapters, not 20 as I said a few chapters back. Just for future reference.


	12. Chapter 12

_**December 2013** _

It happens on Christmas.

Dan and Phil are fourteen years old and have recently decided that Muse is the greatest band in the world. They spend most afternoons in Phil’s bedroom (as Steven is usually occupying Dan’s), lying on the floor and pretending to do homework while Phil draws and Dan plays the same thirty or so songs on repeat.

Phil has been steadily getting better at art over the last four years, and his bedroom is starting to look like a wonderland, the works he is most proud of covering every wall. Recently, he has taken to drawing trees — slim, graceful ones with leaves of every color — which he always covers with his hand whenever one of his parents comes to check on them. It’s a hopeless endeavor, they both know, as Phil’s hands are always smudged with colored pencil or ink, but he continues to makes straight A’s, so no one ever scolds him.

(One day, when Phil is drawing and Dan is staring blankly at his maths book, Dan admits that he is afraid of trees in the dark, even more than he is afraid of other things in the dark. The next day, he finds a drawing of a tree stuffed inside his notebook, the branches full of yellow stars. Below it is a note that reads, _‘This one won’t ever go dark.’_ Dan hangs it in his locker, and after that, trees in the dark don’t scare him quite as much).

When they get out of school for winter break, their routine doesn’t change except for the fact that they don’t need to pretend to work anymore. They spend several of their precious days off lying on their backs with their eyes closed and talking about how one song reminds them of a sunrise and another makes them feel like tiny specks in the universe.

(Dan worries a lot about being a tiny speck. But when Phil is a speck beside him, he thinks it might not be so bad).

Dan wakes up Christmas morning with his heart pounding. He hasn’t been this excited for Christmas since before he moved to Manchester, and the reason is the present he got for Phil. It took months of saving money, begging his mother to let him use her credit card, and agreeing that he won’t get an allowance again until he has paid off his debts (which won’t be until April), but he knows it will be worth it to see the look on Phil’s face.

It’s mid-afternoon before they each manage to convince their parents to let them leave their respective houses. Technically, Phil’s parents are supposed to pick up Dan and Dan’s parents are supposed to pick up Phil, but they’re both exhausted from being around family all day, so they agree to walk and meet at a park in the middle.

Winter has long since lost its appeal. The snow beneath Dan’s boots has gone from soft and white to slushy and grey, and the cold makes his nose lose feeling and his bones ache. He doesn’t care though. Freezing temperatures can’t compete with the excitement bubbling in his chest.

He makes it to the park before Phil does and finds an empty bench. It isn’t difficult; most people are celebrating indoors, so he doesn’t see another person anywhere. He brushes the snow off the seat, thankful that his mother reminded him to bring gloves, and sits down just in time to see Phil trudging towards him, waving a green-mittened hand and wrapped in a silvery coat that makes him look like a spaceman.

“Happy Christmas!” Phil calls right before he trips over his feet and face-plants into the snow.

“Phil!” Dan shouts, springing up and rushing to his side.

Phil rolls over and groans before spitting out a mouthful of snow. “That can’t be sanitary.”

Dan chuckles, glad to see that his friend is okay. He offers him a hand and pulls him up. “Good going, you spoon.”

“If you’re mean to me, I won’t give you your present,” Phil replies, brushing snow off a soggy, squished box that looks like it was poorly wrapped to start with.

“Is it even in one piece anymore?” Dan asks, raising an eyebrow.

“It isn’t breakable. Thankfully.” He hands it to Dan. “Happy Christmas,” he says again.

“Happy Christmas.” Dan hands a small, neatly wrapped package to Phil.

Dan opens his first. He gets a hoodie with a cartoon llama on the front wishing him a happy ‘hollamadays.’ “This is great!” Dan laughs. “Did you draw this?”

“Yeah,” Phil says, ducking his head bashfully. “You like it?”

“I love it,” Dan says, already shedding his plain black coat in favour of the grey hoodie. It isn’t warm enough for the current weather, but Dan doesn’t mind. “Open yours.”

Phil unwraps the present slowly and carefully, like even the dark green wrapping paper needs to be preserved. “Origin of Symmetry!” he exclaims, turning the CD over in his hands. “As soon as I get a car, this is going in the CD player and never coming out.”

Dan bites his lip to keep from grinning.

He sees the exact moment Phil notices it, eyes narrowing before going wide. “Dan, what’s this scribble on the case?”

“Oh, nothing,” Dan says, feeling as though he is going to burst. “Just Matt Bellamy’s signature.”

“ _Shut up._ ”

The next thing Dan knows, he is being tackled to the ground in a massive hug.

“You’re getting my new hoodie wet, you great oaf,” Dan complains, though he can’t stop giggling.

“This is the best present I’ve ever gotten,” Phil says instead of apologising. He looks down at Dan with rosy cheeks and bright eyes and the widest smile Dan has ever seen. His hair is a mess, and there are snowflakes stuck in his eyelashes.

Dan’s stomach dips without warning.

His laughter dies in his throat.

Phil’s smile falters. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Dan lies. “It’s just really cold out here.”

“Sorry,” Phil says, scrambling to get up and then offering his hand to help Dan. “Guess I got a little too excited.”

“No worries,” Dan says, smiling though he wants to do anything but. He takes Phil’s hand, ignoring the way it makes his fingers tingle even through his gloves, and lets himself be pulled to his feet. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I  _love_  it,” Phil says, and Dan’s stomach dips again.

Dan wraps his arms across his middle, trying his best not to be sick. “Well, I’d better get home,” he says, teeth chattering.

“Already?” Phil asks, and his eyes are so sad that Dan almost takes it back.

“Yeah, Mum wants me back by four for some sort of family activity.” It’s a lame excuse, but Phil accepts it without question.

“Okay,” he nods. “See you tomorrow to swap the crappy presents our relatives got us?”

“Definitely,” Dan says. He might not be able to handle being around Phil right now, but he could never bail on their annual tradition.

When they hug goodbye, Dan simultaneously wants to push Phil away and cling on forever. He walks away dizzy, but he somehow manages to make it home without falling over. He races upstairs before his family can question him, peeling off the damp hoodie and flopping face-first onto his bed.

Thankfully, Steven is still socialising with family downstairs, so no one is around to ask Dan what’s wrong. Dan buries his face in his pillow and lets out a shuddering breath. His brain seems to be yelling at him, his thoughts a jumbled mess. One thought, however, echoes in his head, clear as day.

That moment in the park, he wanted to kiss Phil Lester. He wanted it more than he has ever wanted anything in his life.


	13. Chapter 13

_**March 2016** _

“Are you ready to talk about it yet?”

“Talk about what?” Dan asks from his blanket cocoon. Dinner must be over now, and Dan wonders if claiming to have a stomachache so he could go back to his room was really the best idea. He still isn’t particularly hungry, but strangely, spending more time alone in his room with the covers over his head hasn’t made him feel better.

That doesn’t mean he is happy to hear his brother’s voice though.

He feels the bed dip near his feet. “Well if you aren’t going to talk, at least eat something.”

Dan rolls over and peeks his head out of his cocoon to see Steven sitting on the edge of his bed, holding a plate loaded with baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and broccoli. He glares at it before pulling the duvet over his head again.

“Come on, I know you aren’t really sick.”

“Yes I am.”

“Love sick, maybe.”

Normally, Dan would whip out a reply that was equal parts threatening and sarcastic. Today, he just continues to lie there.

“Fine.” The bed creaks as Steven gets up. “Guess I’ll just have to give your dinner to Colin.”

Dan pops his head out of the covers again. “Can you bring me Colin?”

“What am I, your butler?” Steven calls over his shoulder as he leaves the room.

A few minutes later, Dan feels a small weight on his chest. He looks up and is immediately met with sloppy, wet kisses all over his face.

Dan laughs for the first time in days and ruffles the little dog’s ears. “Hey, buddy,” he says softly. He sits up and casts a glance at the doorway to find Steven leaning against the frame, arms crossed and mouth set in a line of false anger. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t get used to it,” Steven says before turning to leave once more.

“Where are you going?”

“Away from your moping. Let me know if you decide to stop denying your feelings.”

Dan ignores him and turns his attention back to Colin, scratching the sides of the dog’s neck.

“At least you still like me,” Dan tells him.

Colin responds by licking Dan’s nose.

Dan glances towards the open door, making sure Steven is gone before continuing. “You’re lucky dogs don’t get caught up in drama,” he whispers. “You know, things were simpler when I thought Phil would never like me back on principle. When I didn’t know if he got crushes on anyone, and if he did, it didn’t mean he liked boys, and if he did like boys, it didn’t mean he would like me.”

Colin tilts his head to the side.

“I know, I know, this really shouldn’t change anything. I always knew it was unlikely that he would like me back. And I guess…I guess I should have known that having my suspicions confirmed would still hurt. I should have. But as stupid as it was, and as much as I wish I hadn’t, I was holding onto that little bit of hope. And…I mean…it’s Steven that he likes, and that makes it worse, you know? Because it’s not my gender or the way I look that he doesn’t like. It’s just…me.”

Dan sighs.

“And of course it had to be Steven. I should be used to people liking him more than they like me. But Phil…he even told me once…did I tell you? He told me he liked me best. I told him I was pretty sure Steven was my parents’ favourite, and he said I was _his_ favourite, easy as that. And okay, we’ve been best friends for years, so it really shouldn’t have meant that much. But it did. To me, it did.

“Maybe that hasn’t changed. I can still be his best friend even if Steven’s the one he wants to be with, right? I mean, of course I _can_ , in theory. I know that. But part of me can’t help but wonder if we’re growing apart, and if that happens, I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it. I don’t know how to exist without him anymore.”

Colin places his paw on Dan’s forearm.

Dan smiles. “Yeah, you’re right, I’m probably being over-dramatic. Maybe Phil and I have just been friends for so long that the idea of being anything else is weird to him. It was weird for me too, when I first realised that I liked him. As much as the last six years have been great, sometimes I wish we could start over. Partially to see if he would choose to be my friend all over again, but also to see if he would think of me as something else.”

He shakes his head. He’s being silly. There’s no point in what-ifs, but he just can’t help it. Pushing his fringe back in frustration, he says, “If I could just get him to look at me with fresh eyes, the way he does with Steven…”

He stops.

He looks at Colin. Colin stares back. If dogs could talk, he might tell Dan to forget whatever he’s thinking, because that glint in his eye is one that Dan only gets when he’s thinking of doing something really stupid.

This time is no exception.

“Colin,” Dan says, “I have an idea.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New updating schedule! The remaining chapters of this story will be posted on Mondays and Thursdays unless otherwise specified.

**_January 2014_ **

“Alright. Spill.”

Dan closes his laptop hurriedly. He didn’t hear Steven enter the room. “What?”

“Don’t be daft,” Steven says, moving the laptop aside and plopping next to Dan on his bed. “You’ve been acting weird all week.”

Dan knows he can’t reasonably deny this. He’s about as transparent as a window, never able to hide his fears with anger like Steven or pretend that everything is fine like Phil. Even if he hadn’t been hiding in his room even more than usual and moping around when one of his family members forced him to come out and be social, he is pretty sure the New Year’s party two nights ago gave him away.

He wasn’t looking forward to the party to begin with, and then he found out that the Lesters were coming. He spent the entire night doing his best to avoid everyone, even (and maybe especially) Phil. When midnight approached and his aunt elbowed him in the side and drunkenly asked if there was a pretty girl back at school that he wished he could kiss at midnight, Dan blushed profusely and excused himself to the bathroom, staying there through the entire countdown.

Still, that doesn’t stop him from _trying_ to deny it.

“I haven’t been acting weird.”

“Guess you’re right. It isn’t an act.”

Dan glares at him.

“You’ve been weirder than usual though. So spill.” Steven nudges him with his shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Nothing’s ‘up.’”

“Come on, you can’t lie to your twin. We shared a brain in the womb.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“Really?” Steven cocks his head to the side. “Huh. Anyway, you’re a terrible liar. You’re almost as bad as Phil.”

At the mention of his best friend’s name, Dan visibly tenses. It’s visible, he knows, because Steven’s eyes light up.

“So this is about Phil. I wondered why you were avoiding him the other night.”

“I wasn’t avoiding him. I just don’t like parties, is all. And I’ve been needing extra alone time recently, given all the gatherings we’ve had over the holiday. You extroverts wouldn’t understand.”

“So that’s the only reason you’ve been making yourself so scarce lately? You just…needed your introvert time?”

“Exactly.”

“Ah,” Steven says, nodding. “Then I guess you weren’t trying to hide anything on your laptop.”

Before Dan can react, Steven grabs the computer and dashes out of the room.

“Wait!” Dan yells, scrambling up from the bed and chasing after him. He thanks the heavens that their parents had to go back to work today. He makes it to the bathroom door just as Steven runs inside and closes it in Dan’s face.

“Steven!” He jiggles the handle, but it’s already locked. He pounds his fist against the door. “Open the door!”

“Sorry, someone’s in here,” Steven calls back.

Dan growls. “Open the door or I’ll…I’ll…”

“You’ll what, tell Mum? That’d kind of be giving yourself away, wouldn’t it?”

Dan glares at the door despite the fact that Steven can’t see him. “Fine. Don’t open it. My laptop is password protected anyway.”

“Oh dear, a password. However will I guess what it is? Hm, let’s see…H-A-R-U.”

Dan starts to sweat.

“Ha! You’re so predictable. Now, let’s have a look at your browser history.”

Dan stops breathing. For half a minute, the house is silent.

The door clicks. It creaks open, revealing a sheepish Steven. He holds the now-closed laptop out to Dan, who snatches it with trembling hands.

“I’m sorry,” Steven mumbles, still standing on the opposite side of the doorway. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Dan hates the way his voice cracks in the middle of the sentence.

Steven ducks his head. They both stay rooted to the spot.

“Can we go to our room to talk?” Steven asks.

Dan doesn’t want to talk, but he doesn’t want to stand in the hall for the rest of the day either. He nods and starts back to their bedroom on wobbly legs, Steven in tow.

Steven shuts the door behind them, even though they are the only ones home, and takes a seat on the floor in the middle of the room. Dan sits across from him and stares down at his hands.

Steven takes a breath as if he is about to say something, stops, tries again. “It’s okay, you know,” he says finally. His voice is softer than Dan has ever heard it.

Dan doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look up.

“I’m not…I don’t think any less of you for this,” Steven tries again. “It doesn’t change anything.”

“It does, though,” Dan mumbles. He feels a lump forming in his throat, so he swallows it back. “You wouldn’t be treating me like glass right now if this didn’t change things.”

“I…” Steven huffs. “I’m trying to be careful here. I know I messed up, and I don’t want to make things worse.” Dan looks up to find him running his hands through his hair in frustration. “No one deserves to be outed before they’re ready.”

And there it is. It was bad enough just knowing that Steven saw his browser history, knew how many times he had searched phrases like “how to know if you’re gay” and “sexuality quiz” over the course of the last week. Now that the words are out in the open, they feel all too real. Dan can’t pretend he’s just curious anymore. He is gay, and he has just been outed.

“I don’t even know why I keep Googling that stuff,” Dan admits. “It only took one search. Everything I saw…it just explained a lot.”

“Maybe you just needed more assurances. So you could get used to the idea. How long…?”

“Since Christmas.”

Steven nods. “I can see why you’d still be freaking out then.” He chews on his lip for a moment. “You know it isn’t a bad thing, right?” he asks slowly. “You’re not…you’re not like _wrong_ or anything.”

Dan rolls his eyes, though he is secretly relieved to hear Steven say that. “I’ve never had a problem with gay people. I just…never really thought I was one of them, you know?”

“I’m sure it came as a big surprise, being alive for fourteen years and not knowing.”

“Yeah,” Dan agrees. He narrows his eyes. “You, on the other hand, don’t seem surprised at all.”

Steven purses his lips.

“No,” Dan says, mildly horrified. “You knew!”

“I…suspected.”

“Since _when_?”

“Since we were like six.”

“ _Six?_ ” Dan nearly shrieks. “I didn’t even consider it until about a week ago!”

The corner of Steven’s mouth twitches up. It isn’t quite his signature smirk, but he doesn’t look as guilty as he did either. “You never got to see yourself from an outside perspective.”

“Okay, just because I used to sing along to the Spice Girls doesn’t mean—”

“Oh, it wasn’t that.” Ah, there’s the smirk. “It had more to do with your massive crush on Anakin Skywalker.”

“I did _not_ —” Dan starts to argue but stops short. “Oh. Oh, good lord.”

Steven laughs, loud and unrestrained as ever.

Dan grumbles something about evil twins under his breath.

“Sorry,” Steven says, wiping his eyes. “Couldn’t help it.”

“Sure.” Dan crosses his arms and glares at his brother.

“In all seriousness though, I’m glad you’re coming to terms with it.” He punches Dan’s arm gently. “Proud of you, little brother.”

“You’re only five minutes older than me,” Dan reminds him. “Besides, I’m taller.”

“No, I’m taller.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“So are you. Though maybe slightly less shit, considering that you’re shorter.”

“Shut _up_.”

Steven laughs again. Dan picks a loose bit of carpet off the floor and throws it at him.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway makes them both check the time on their phones. Five-fifteen. Their mother must be getting home from work.

“Are you going to tell them?” Steven asks.

“Mum and Dad?” Dan says. “At some point. Not yet though.”

Steven nods. “What about Phil?”

Dan almost repeats the question back before realising what Steven is probably asking. “Guess I’ll have to tell him next. Seeing as how he’s my best friend and all.”

“Right,” Steven says, a sarcastic edge to his voice. “Because that’s the only reason you should tell him.”

Dan glares. “You’d better not be implying what I think you’re implying.”

“No, of course not,” Steven replies with a shit-eating grin. “I’m not implying anything at all.”


	15. Chapter 15

**_March 2016_ **

The next morning, Dan takes a shower and doesn’t straighten his hair afterwards. He hums as he ambles back to his room, a towel wrapped snugly around his waist, and spends a good five minutes rummaging through his closet in search of something that looks nice on him but isn’t black.

(He could just steal something from Steven’s closet, he knows, but that would be too obvious. As if this whole idea isn’t obvious to begin with).

He eventually settles on a white polo shirt that he forgot he owned and his lightest-colored jeans, a dark blue pair that has faded to a medium hue after multiple washings. It isn’t exactly the pastel-and-khaki aesthetic that Steven usually goes for, but it looks like something he might wear.

While he is bending over to tie his shoes — a pair of white trainers he hardly ever wears — the sound of a throat being cleared comes from behind him. Dan responds with an undignified squawk and jumps several inches into the air.

He turns around to glare as Steven, who is standing in the doorway with a bowl of Shreddies in one hand and a spoon in the other. Coincidentally, he has decided to wear a white shirt and blue jeans today too, though (much to Dan’s chagrin) his button-up is much nicer than Dan’s polo.

“Are we finally doing the thing where we switch places all day just to fuck with people’s heads?” Steven asks, his mouth full of cereal. “Because I am totally up for that.”

“We’re doing nothing of the sort,” Dan says, crossing his arms over his chest. “I just didn’t feel like straightening my hair today, is all.”

Steven narrows his eyes. “Riiiight. And I’m sure you just _‘felt like’_ dressing like me too, right?”

“These are my clothes.”

“And when’s the last time you wore that shirt?”

Dan scowls.

Steven responds with a smirk, but after a moment, he trades it for a frown. “This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that conversation we had the other night, would it? The one where you were jealous because Phil was giving me attention?”

“Of course not,” Dan replies, silently cursing his brother. He slings his backpack over his shoulder and shoves past Steven into the hall. “Come on, we need to get going or we’ll be late.”

* * *

Dan finds Phil at his locker before school starts. Taking a deep breath, he walks up to him, leaning against his own locker in an attempt to look cool.

“Hey,” he says.

Phil, who has been busy transferring books from his backpack to his locker and vice versa, looks up at him and smiles. “Hi Dan.”

Dan’s shoulders droop. “How’d you know it was me?”

Phil tilts his head. “Why would Steven be at your locker?”

“I don’t know. Why would I be wearing a bloody polo shirt?”

“It looks nice on you,” Phil says, apparently not thinking anything strange of the situation. “Your hair does too. You should wear it like that more often.”

Dan blushes. Okay, so maybe his plan is working out after all. “Thanks.”

Phil’s smile broadens. “Can I ask why you’re dressed like Steven today?”

“Oh. Um. Just thought it might be funny. See if it confuses people, you know?”

Phil nods as if this is perfectly reasonable. “It probably will. You two really are nearly identical. I mean, obviously you’re _identical_. You know what I mean.”

Dan nods slowly. “You could tell the difference though.”

“I know you very well.”

Dan raises his eyebrows, wondering if Phil is going to elaborate. To Dan’s surprise, he does.

“You sound more posh than him,” Phil says. “To be fair, I think Steven tries to sound a bit more Northern to fit in, but you only sound Northern when we’ve been hanging out for hours at a time. The rest of the time, you still sound like the queen.”

“Oi,” Dan warns, though he can’t help but smile.

“And there’s another thing,” Phil says, poking Dan’s cheek.

Dan blinks a few times, startled. “What?”

“Steven doesn’t have your dimples,” Phil explains. He zips his backpack and pulls the straps over his shoulders. “So what’s the plan, Lindsay Lohan? Are you going to take each other’s classes?”

“Nah, we’re just going through the day like normal. See if anyone gets confused, you know?”

Phil nods. “Should be interesting.”

Dan opens his own locker. Lying to Phil is making him feel a bit sick, and he doesn’t want to look at him right now. “I hope so,” he says.

* * *

Despite the somewhat successful morning, Phil doesn’t stare at Dan any more than usual that day. This doesn’t discourage Dan too much. No, what discourages him is the fact that it’s the end of the day and Phil is rushing off again.

“Where to this time?” Dan asks, trying and failing to sound disinterested.

“Appointment,” Phil says, shoving books into his backpack. He remembers the sketchbook this time.

“Didn’t you have an appointment yesterday?”

“Different kind,” Phil says. He pauses for a moment and looks at Dan, eyebrows furrowing with what looks like regret. “I’m sorry I keep ditching you. We’ll hang out soon, I promise.”

Well, at least he is finally acknowledging it. It’s almost a relief to know that Dan hasn’t been imagining his friend’s strange behaviour.

Almost.

The next thing Dan knows, Phil is leaving, and Dan can do nothing but watch. He doesn’t know how long he stands there, staring at the exit and wishing he could stop feeling abandoned, but he is pretty sure it has been more than five minutes when he feels a tap on his shoulder.

He whirls around, mouth opening to tell Steven to get lost. Instead of being met with his brother’s familiar smirk, however, he has to look down a little to see the wide-eyed, brown-haired girl staring up at him.

“Oh, sorry,” says the girl, who Dan thinks he recognises as someone on Steven’s debate team. A new student, he thinks. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Just…you said you couldn’t come to the meeting today…I thought. Maybe I misunderstood. Or you just haven’t left school yet. But I saw you standing here for a really long time and you weren’t moving and I didn’t know if you were okay or not.” She takes a deep breath, having spouted so many words so quickly that she ran out of air. “Are you okay?”

Dan blinks, trying to process what the girl is saying. “Erm. Yeah,” he says slowly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

The girl’s concerned expression quickly changes into a dazzling smile. “Good. That’s good. So are you coming to the meeting or not?”

Dan shakes his head, finally catching on. “No, you see…I think you have me confused with my brother…”

“Oh!” the girl says, eyes widening in surprise. “Oh, you must be the twin. I’ve heard about you, but I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Dan says, laughing though he really doesn’t feel like it. He sticks out his hand. “I’m Dan.”

“Dodie,” she says, shaking his hand. “Sorry for confusing you with Steven. I just moved here last month and I haven’t gotten to know many people yet.”

“It’s fine,” Dan shrugs. “We’re pretty identical. Er, you said something about Steven not being able to make it to the meeting today?”

“Yeah,” says Dodie. “I’m pretty sure he said something about it at lunch. I don’t know why he couldn’t come though. Do you?”

Dan shakes his head. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

Dodie bites her bottom lip, a worried look briefly passing over her face. “I hope I haven’t told you anything he didn’t want you to know.”

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Dan says, though he honestly isn’t sure anymore. “Steven’s not exactly the most secretive person.”

Dodie smiles. “He’s really nice. I’m sure you’re nice too,” she rushes to add. “But Steven…he was the first person to talk to me when I moved here. Showed me around the school and introduced me to people. I was so shy, but he was so nice and patient with me.”

“I’m sure he was,” Dan grumbles, sounding bitterer than he intended.

“Oh, I know he has a reputation as a bit of a player,” she says. “And sure, he’s charming, but I think there’s a real kindness to him that he doesn’t want other people to see. He just gets wrapped up in wanting people to like him, is all.” She ducks her head suddenly. “Sorry. You probably don’t want to hear how great people think your brother is.”

“No, it’s okay,” Dan says, raising his eyebrows. “You’re good at reading people.”

Dodie ducks her head, cheeks pinking. “Can’t help it. It just kind of happens.” She glances up at Dan. “Speaking of which…and I know this is probably none of my business…but are you sure you’re okay? You seem sad.”

“I’m fine,” he repeats. “Just tired, I guess.”

Dodie gives him a reassuring smile. He’s fairly certain she doesn’t believe him. “Okay, well. Let me know if you ever need to talk. I’m usually in the music room. When I’m not at debate practice, that is.” She looks at her phone. “Speaking of which, I’d better get going if I don’t want to be late.”

“Go. And thanks,” Dan says. “Have fun at your meeting.”

Dodie laughs, and the sound is soft and tinkling. It reminds him of Phil. “It was nice meeting you, Dan,” she says.

“Nice to meet you too.”

Clutching the strap of her messenger bag with one hand, she gives Dan a small wave before retreating.

And then Dan is alone again.

The hallway is quiet. Dan checks his phone. School ended fifteen minutes ago. All the students who are still around are either at meetings or sports practice or detention. A few of the teachers might still be at school grading papers, but they’re all in their classrooms. Even the custodians aren’t anywhere in sight. Dan is alone, and he feels it.

It takes some effort to make his feet start shuffling forward, but once they start, they drag him out of the school of their own volition. It’s nice out for once, not a raincloud in the sky, and Dan might enjoy it if he wasn’t so busy watching his feet.

He stares at them as they take him down the pavement, off school property, one block, then two blocks, then three. They don’t stop when he gets to his house. He wishes that they did. Part of him wants to turn around and go home and sleep for hours, but another part of him wants to stop dead in his tracks, to fall to his knees in the itchy grass on the side of the road, to curl up in a sunbeam and let ants crawl over him until he is sunburnt and bitten and remembers how to feel.

He knows where his feet are taking him. He thinks he knows what he’ll find when he gets there. He doesn’t know why he isn’t crying.

He’s so tired.

The walk takes a little over half an hour. It’s been a while since he walked the whole way — even before Phil had a car, one of their parents would usually pick them up from school — but he is pretty sure he used to be able to do it in twenty-five. Maybe his memory is failing him.

Phil’s house seems different.

He can’t quite say what has changed. The pale blue paint is chipped and peeling, just as it has been for all the years that Dan has known it. The daffodils in the front yard are in full bloom. He tries to remember if they were there last time he came over; he thinks it might have been too cold then. Maybe that’s it.

He barely registers the Allegro parked in the open garage.

Somehow, he knew it would be there anyway.

He stands in the driveway, staring at the car but barely seeing it, until he hears the front door open.

There is an old oak tree in Phil’s front yard that Dan once climbed when he was twelve, probably in an attempt to impress Phil. It wasn’t until he was high up in the branches that he looked down and realised that he was afraid. The same fear tightens his chest as he ducks behind the tree now, suddenly snapped out of his trance and breathing hard as he feels the panic set in.

“Thank you for doing that for me,” a voice that he recognises as Phil’s says. He sounds farther away than he should be.

“My pleasure,” a second voice replies. “It was actually kind of fun. Feel free to borrow my face anytime.”

Laughter. “It sounds so creepy when you put it like that. Like I’m going to keep your face in a jar for a while.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to. It’s a very nice face.”

“It is.” A pause. Then, “You won’t tell Dan, will you?”

“Course not. If he suspects anything, I’ll just say I came by your house for help with an essay.”

“You think he’ll buy it?”

“Do you know how many teachers I’ve convinced to give me homework extensions when I was really just too lazy to do it by the original deadline? If anyone spills the beans, I think it will be you.”

“I suppose I have been acting rather suspicious lately. I think he’s noticed.”

“Oh, he’s noticed. But I think we can keep him from knowing why, at least for a little while.”

“I hope so. Would you like a ride home?”

“Nah, Dan’s probably already there, and he’ll definitely notice if that yellow monstrosity pulls into the yard.”

More laughter. “Yeah, probably so. Anyway, thanks again, Steven.”

“No problem. See you later.”

“See you.”

The sound of a door closing. Footsteps coming down wooden stairs, padding across pavement. They come closer, and Dan knows it’s too late to hide. He looks down at his shoes.

He is still staring at them when the footsteps come to an abrupt stop. “Dan,” comes a surprised voice.

Dan looks up and swallows back the lump in his throat.

Steven’s eyes are wide and concerned. He looks more nervous than Dan has ever seen him. “How long have you been here?” he asks.

“I can’t believe you,” Dan croaks, shaking his head and avoiding Steven’s question. “You said you wouldn’t.”

“Dan,” he says again. He puts his hands on Dan’s shoulders. “Listen to me. Nothing is going on between me and Phil.”

“You said yourself that you’re a good liar.”

“I’m _not_ lying though.” He removes his hands and runs them through his hair. “Look, I didn’t expect you to hear any of that, but I can see you’re upset—”

“Wow, great observation.”

“I can _see_ that you’re upset,” Steven repeats through clenched teeth, “so I’m telling you, whatever you think happened in that house just now isn’t what happened.”

“What _did_ happen then?”

Steven inhales sharply. He shakes his head. “I can’t tell you.”

Dan scoffs. “Figures.”

“I can’t!”

“Yet you expect me to believe you when you won’t tell me what’s going on.”

“I expect you to _trust_ me.”

“Give me one reason why I should.”

“Because I’m your brother!”

Nearby, someone clears their throat.

Dan and Steven look up to find a bewildered Phil glancing back and forth between them.

“Steven?” Phil says, looking to the older twin for answers.

Dan’s heart breaks a little more.

“He was hiding behind the tree,” Steven explains, his voice harsh but not as loud as before, as though he is using all of his strength to keep from shouting. “I’m sorry, Phil. I know what I said a few minutes ago, but I can’t do this. You talk to him. Tell him the truth. I can’t deal with this right now.” And with that, he stomps away.

Dan and Phil are both silent until Steven is out of sight. Then Phil clears his throat again and says, “So. I don’t know how much you heard, but I guess I should explain—”

“Save it,” Dan interjects. Phil looks taken aback but shuts his mouth. “I already know.”

Phil furrows his brow. “You do?”

Dan laughs. It’s a bitter, hollow sound. “Kind of hard to miss once I got here.”

“I was going to tell you.”

“Were you?”

“Of course.” Phil sounds so sincere that Dan almost believes him. Only now, he thinks Phil has probably picked up Steven’s lying skills. “How could you think that I wouldn’t?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Phil. Maybe because you’ve been acting suspicious for over a week now? Getting distracted, barely getting any sleep, oh, and let’s not forget about those lovely drawings of yours—”

“What drawings?”

Dan stops. He probably should have left that part out. “They…well I…”

“Did you look in my sketchbook?”

The thing is, Dan has never really seen Phil mad before. Occasionally sad, rarely stressed, but every time Dan has tried to picture Phil losing his temper, yelling and stomping around like Steven does when he’s upset, he can’t. It just isn’t Phil. Eventually, Dan concluded that Phil doesn’t get mad, or, if he does, Dan is never present for it. He hoped he never would be.

Now he understands why it was so hard to picture. Phil isn’t yelling. He isn’t stomping around or gesturing emphatically. He is perfectly still except for his hands, which hang by his sides, shaking slightly. His mouth is drawn in a tight line, and his normally cheerful blue eyes are suddenly icy cold. When he speaks, his tone is calm and even, and his voice is quiet, even quieter than usual.

It’s absolutely _terrifying._

Dan doesn’t know how to fight back against this kind of anger. So he doesn’t. He stands there, mouth agape, until Phil finally continues.

“You did, didn’t you?”

Dan nods automatically. It’s like he can’t even think of lying to Phil when he’s like this. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Yes you did. I told you I didn’t want you looking at my drawings, and you did it anyway.”

“Technically, you only said you wouldn’t show me.”

“You knew what that meant. What did you do, sneak a peek over my shoulder when I wasn’t looking?”

Dan swallows thickly. “You left your sketchbook in your locker on Friday.”

Phil is silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he says, “You broke into my locker.” It isn’t a question.

“Well if you were going to tell me anyway—”

“That isn’t the point. I’m not angry because you saw it before I wanted you to.”

“You are angry though, right?” Dan tries to say it in an almost-teasing tone. Anything to lighten the mood.

Phil doesn’t look amused. “I trusted you,” he says.

And there it is. Of all the things Dan has been worried that Phil would say, that might just be the worst.

This is all Dan’s fault.

Nothing else is said. What is there to say? They stand there. Phil stares at Dan. Dan stares at his shoes.

Eventually, Phil turns and walks back to his house. He doesn’t say goodbye. He doesn’t look back.

For the third time that day, Dan notices how completely and utterly alone he is.

The walk back home is even harder than the walk to Phil’s house. Dan’s knees feel like they might give out at any moment, but he pushes forward. He ignores his pounding heart. He ignores the worried eyes of the woman he passes. And, for as long as he can, he ignores the urge to collapse.

He makes it halfway there.

If not for the park between their houses, he might make it all the way. If not for the tiny wooden bench, now covered in pollen instead of snow, he might walk past and make it back to his room.

But he doesn’t.

At some point over the course of the last few days, it has come to Dan’s attention that he hasn’t cried yet. As worried and sad and stressed out as he has been, the tears simply haven’t come. It’s weird because he feels close to tears so much of the time, but he can never let it out. He just doesn’t have the energy.

Only now — as he brushes pollen off a bench that holds more memories than a place to sit should, as he lies down on it and brings his knees to his chest — does he finally let out a breath that he feels like he has been holding for days, cover his face, and sob.


	16. Chapter 16

**_January 2014_ **

Phil takes the news well.

Not that that’s surprising; Phil takes everything well. In the four years that Dan has known him, he has never known Phil to overreact to anything, and he has only seen him get upset a handful of times.

Still, that doesn’t stop the relief that spreads through Dan’s chest when Phil doesn’t make a big deal out of it.

Three weeks have passed since he came out to Steven, and Dan has been putting off telling his best friend for longer than he intended. He meant to say it the next time he saw him, but that didn’t happen until school started back, and he certainly couldn’t tell him there. Then he was going to tell him after school that day, when they were in Phil’s bedroom listening to the Muse album Dan got him and not even pretending to study, but he got swept up in how nice it was just being with Phil and couldn’t bring himself to ruin it.

The following weeks passed in a similar fashion, with Dan almost telling him dozens of times before inevitably chickening out. Then, one day, when they are playing video games after dinner and Dan knows he will have to go home soon, he suddenly decides he doesn’t want to put it off anymore.

“Phil, I’m gay,” he says without preamble. He manages to keep his voice steady, but he drives his car right over the edge of Rainbow Road. Fitting, he thinks.

“Okay,” Phil says, throwing a green shell at Bowser and missing.

“Okay?” Dan says, trying to catch up now that he is in last place. He collects a box and prays for a bullet. “That’s it?” Mushrooms. Utterly useless.

“Okay…dokay?”

“I’m being serious, Phil.”

“I know you are,” Phil says, pausing the game. He turns to look at Dan, and his eyes are apologetic. “Sorry, hard to concentrate on words when you’re playing Mario Kart.”

“Yeah,” Dan agrees. “Guess I don’t have the best timing, huh?”

Phil shakes his head and smiles. “When have you ever?”

Dan doesn’t quite know what he means by that, but he decides to let it go for now. He doesn’t have the brainpower to decipher Phil’s cryptic messages today.

“So…should we talk about this?” Dan asks.

Phil shrugs. “Only if you want to. And it sort of seems like you do.”

Dan considers it for a moment before shaking his head. “No,” he says. “I think I pretty much said everything I wanted to say.” A tiny voice in his head reminds him that there is still one very important thing that he hasn’t said, but he doesn’t have any plans to voice that thought ever. “You’re fine with it though?”

“Of course,” Phil says, and Dan thanks whoever is listening that it’s so easy to hear the sincerity in Phil’s voice. “I appreciate you telling me though. That must have been difficult.”

“It was,” Dan admits, sighing in relief. “I’ve been working up the nerve for weeks. I think if I came home bitching about how I chickened out one more time, Steven would have murdered me in my sleep.”

“You already told Steven?” Phil says. He is clearly trying to keep his voice sounding casual. He is also failing miserably. “I mean, it makes sense, him being your twin and all…”

“I didn’t tell him,” Dan interjects. “He figured it out. Otherwise I would have told you first.”

“Oh.” The hurt expression leaves Phil’s face, but then he furrows his brow. “Erm, how’d he figure it out?”

Dan waves his hand dismissively. “He stole my laptop and saw my internet history.”

Phil drops the Wii remote.

Dan’s eyes widen. “Wait, no, it’s not what you’re thinking. It was, like, Google searches for ‘how to know if you’re gay’ and a bunch of pages on Yahoo Answers.”

“Ah,” Phil says, nodding shakily. He tilts his head. “Yahoo Answers might not be the most reliable place to figure out your sexuality.”

Dan lets out a short, breathy laugh. “Yeah, tell me about it. I think I just needed some reassurance, you know? See people going through the same thing. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone.”

“That makes sense,” Phil says. He worries his lower lip between his teeth as if he is considering saying something else. Whatever it is, he doesn’t get to say it, as there is a sudden knock on his door.

“Dan?” Phil’s mother calls through the door. “Will you be needing a ride home? It’s getting rather dark.”

“Yes, please, Mrs. Lester,” Dan calls back.

“We’ll be out in a minute, Mum!” Phil adds. He looks back to Dan. “You could spend the night if you like. It’s been a while since we had a sleepover.”

Dan’s chest tightens. As much as he doesn’t want to leave, he isn’t sure sharing Phil’s bed — as they usually do during impromptu sleepovers — is the best idea. He frowns, wondering if he will ever get over his crush enough for things to go back to the way they were. “I already told my mum I’d be home before nine,” he lies. “Maybe next time?”

“Okay,” Phil nods, standing up and offering Dan his hand to help him up as well. Against his better judgement, Dan takes it, and he has to ignore the way it makes his hand tingle with warmth. “You owe me a rematch in Mario Kart though.”

Dan grins. “You’re on.”

Phil grins back. Neither boy notices that they are still holding hands.


	17. Chapter 17

**_March 2016 – April 2016_ **

Dan wakes with a start and nearly falls off the bench.

It takes him several seconds to remember why he is on a park bench in the first place. It takes longer to remember that what he thought was a nightmare actually happened.

He sits up, presses his hands against his face, and lets out a long, shaky sigh. He never meant to fall asleep out here. He checks his phone and finds that it is dead, but judging by the position of the moon, low and full near the tops of the trees, he guesses that it’s probably around nine o’clock at night. His parents are probably worried sick.

He stands on wobbly legs, only to fall back onto the bench a second later. It takes him three tries to stand without falling, and it takes him a good twenty minutes to drag his feet the rest of the way home.

He walks into the kitchen to find that dinner has ended and his mother is almost done cleaning up. She doesn’t appear to be worried at all.

“You’re home early,” she says. “How was the date?”

Dan stops dead in his tracks. “What?”

“The date,” his mother repeats. “You know, the one I had to find out about from Dan, as _you_ didn’t tell me.”

Now Dan is really confused.

“So?” his mother continues. “How was it? Was she nice? It wasn’t Erica again, was it?”

He looks around the room to make sure she isn’t talking to anyone else. In the process, he catches his reflection in the kitchen window.

Bloody hell.

He completely forgot that he still looks like Steven. Apparently, even their own mother can’t tell them apart.

Super.

“The date was…” Dan starts, remembering Phil’s earlier observation and putting forth an effort to sound more Northern, “…good? And yeah, it was…it was Erica.”

His mother clicks her tongue. “Honestly, Steven, you two have broken up what, four times now? Isn’t it about time to try someone new?”

“Just three,” he corrects, though he honestly has no idea how many times Erica and his brother have broken up and gotten back together. He fakes a yawn. “Anyway, I’m really tired. I’m just going to head up to my room. Is…erm…is Dan there?”

“Yes, he’s been up there all afternoon again. Barely came down for dinner. I hope things are okay between him and Phil.”

Dan blanches. “W-why wouldn’t they be?” he asks, leaning against the wall for support.

“He’s just seemed so sad lately,” his mother says, turning back to the sink to resume washing dishes. “Seems like Phil would have found a way to cheer him up by now. He usually does.” She shakes her head. “Sorry. Not your job to take on a mother’s worries. Go on then. Get some rest.”

Dan nods and turns to run upstairs. He gets to the top, walks to his room, and flings the door open.

The room is empty.

On the desk, he sees a piece of paper that he doesn’t remember being there before. He picks it up.

> _Dan,_
> 
> _If you find this note, text me._
> 
> _Mum and/or Dad, if you find this note, please remember that I am mostly a good son and that you love me too much to ground me forever._
> 
> _-S_

Dan plugs in his phone immediately. As soon as it has enough charge that he can use it again, he texts Steven a single word:

> **_Home_ **

He toes off his shoes, flops onto his bed without bothering to change out of his clothes, pulls the duvet over his head, and tries to sleep.

He is still wide-awake twenty minutes later when he hears the scraping sound of a window opening, followed by a soft thud.

“Dan,” comes a harsh whisper. “Are you awake?”

Dan closes his eyes tighter and tries to ignore it.

“Come on, Danny, I know you’d be snoring if you were really asleep.”

“I don’t snore,” Dan mumbles. “And don’t call me Danny.”

He expects a witty retort. Instead, all he hears is a sigh. The floor creaks as footsteps draw close to his bed. He feels the mattress dip near his feet.

“Where were you tonight?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Dan retorts. “Mum seemed to think you were on a date.”

Steven huffs. It’s almost a laugh. “I pretended to be you and told her that to cover your ass. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Dan peeks over his duvet. In the dim light, he can see that Steven’s hair is straightened and that he is wearing Dan’s eclipse shirt. “That still doesn’t tell me where you were.”

It takes Steven a minute to respond. When he does, his voice is almost gentle. “I was looking for you, you great idiot.”

Dan wishes he could believe that.

The silence stretches out for what feels like forever before Steven says, in a voice smaller than Dan has ever heard him use, “I’m sorry, Dan.”

After another minute of silence, Steven gets up and crosses the room to his own bed. They don’t speak again for the rest of the night.

But they don’t sleep either.

* * *

Dan doesn’t even have to fake sick the next day. After his uncomfortable nap on a wooden bench the afternoon before, followed by a night of tossing and turning and not being able to keep his eyes shut, he genuinely feels like crap.

(That’s not even to mention the nausea rolling in his gut every time he thinks of yesterday).

Steven brings him his homework that afternoon and tells him that Phil looked lonely at school that day. Strangely, this doesn’t make Dan feel any better.

* * *

Dan’s parents don’t make him go to school on Thursday either.

Unfortunately, Steven does.

He drags Dan out of bed at seven in the morning, a full fifteen minutes before Steven himself usually wakes up, pulling the duvet off Dan’s huddled form and tugging on his arm until there is no way Dan will be able to go back to sleep. He tells Dan he is going to school as a simple matter of fact, throws some (hopefully) clean clothes at him, and even makes him eat a bowl of cereal. If Dan didn’t know that Steven is only doing it because he feels guilty, he might find his brother’s efforts heartwarming.

But even though Steven gets him to go to school looking as normal as can be expected for someone who has gotten maybe three hours of sleep in the last two days, he can’t make Dan actually do anything once he gets there. Dan doesn’t stop by his locker that morning, not caring that he doesn’t have the books he needs in his bag. He sits at the back-right corner of the room during English class, far away from his usual left-corner seat next to Phil. He barely speaks to Louise during chemistry lab, resigning himself to take notes while she does all the work. He nearly falls asleep in history. He skips French class entirely, spending the entire hour leaning against a tree in the courtyard.

When lunchtime comes, he isn’t particularly hungry, nor does he have the motivation to move, so he stays there. He listens to the birds above him and to the students filing out of the building, and he rests his head against the rough bark and hopes no one comes looking for him.

After almost ten minutes, and against his better judgement, he peers around the tree.

He immediately wishes that he hadn’t.

The table that he usually sits at is empty. Steven’s table, however, is just as full as ever. In fact, it has a new member, one with a blue plaid shirt and jet-black hair, and he is sitting right next to Dan’s brother.

* * *

Friday is largely the same as Thursday with one notable exception: it’s now April. And even though he knows better, a tiny part of Dan spends the whole day wishing and hoping that someone will jump out and tell him that the last few weeks have all been part of some elaborate ruse, a joke that was meant to be funny but ended up being cruel.

Friday comes and goes, and no one tells Dan “April Fool’s.” Not even once.

* * *

“Alright,” Steven says on Saturday, sounding exasperated as he addresses the lump hiding under the grey-and-black duvet, “I let you stay in bed until two in the afternoon, and I know you’ve been awake since at least ten. You are getting your ass out of bed right this minute and going to Phil’s. I don’t care how mad at him you are.”

The lump ignores him.

“That’s it.” He crosses the room, grips the duvet in both hands, and tugs.

It doesn’t budge.

“Jesus. Did you turn yourself into an actual burrito?”

The lump moves in a way that might be interpreted as nodding.

Steven sighs dramatically. “Fine. Guess there’s nothing I can do.” He walks to the door. His footsteps fade down the hall.

The lump becomes suspicious.

A minute later, the footsteps return, immediately followed by the duvet and the lump becoming very wet.

Dan untangles himself from the covers as quickly as he can and throws them to the floor. He glares down at his soggy t-shirt before looking back up. Steven is smirking, and there is an empty bucket in his hands.

“Did you just throw _water_ on me?” Dan sputters.

Steven shrugs. “Could’ve been worse.”

Dan scowls and turns to face the wall, his arms wrapped over his chest in an attempt to keep warm now that he is wet and blanketless.

Steven remains undeterred. He sits heavily on the end of Dan’s bed and bounces himself up and down. “Come on, get up now.”

“Give me one reason why I should.”

“I can give you several,” Steven says, still bouncing. “First off, you can’t possibly be comfortable in that wet shirt.”

“It’ll dry.”

“Reason two,” Steven continues, standing up suddenly and pacing to the other side of the room, “it’s bad for you to lie around all day. Don’t you feel so much better when you move around?”

“No.”

“Three. Phil misses you.”

Dan doesn’t respond.

“And finally, I have a date this afternoon. And, on the off chance that she joins me here afterwards, we don’t need you here moping around. It’s a real mood-killer.”

This gets Dan’s attention.

With more energy than he’s had in weeks, Dan springs up from the bed, crosses the room, and brings his hand up to smack the surprised look right off Steven’s face.

“Ow!” Steven shrieks. He rubs his cheek where a red mark is starting to appear. “What the _hell_ was _that_ for?”

“What’s her name?”

“What?”

“ _What_ ,” Dan repeats, clenching his eyes shut and trying to keep his breathing even, “is her name?”

“Who, my date?”

“Who bloody _else_ would I be talking about?” Dan asks a little too loudly.

Steven puts his hands up in a placating gesture. “Dodie Clark,” he answers quickly. “What does it _matter_?”

“Dodie’s nice,” Dan sneers. “I hope your stupid date with her is worth it.”

“Worth _what_?”

Dan just stands there, breath coming out in harsh puffs, hands balled up at his sides.

Steven stares at him in bewilderment, still clutching his cheek. After a long, tense silence, he tries to step away.

Dan’s hand shoots out to grab the front of his shirt.

“Oi! This _wrinkles_.”

“I can live with you seeing Phil, if that’s what makes you both happy,” Dan says, a slight tremor in his voice no matter how hard he tries to suppress it.

Steven’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wha—”

“It _hurts_ ,” Dan continues, raising his voice so Steven can’t interrupt, “but I can live with it.” He releases Steven’s shirt and points a finger at his twin’s startled face. “What I can’t live with is seeing you hurt him too. You can’t just let him think you like him back and then turn around and date someone else. I won’t watch you break his heart.”

“What are you…” Steven starts, then stops. Understanding flashes in his eyes before he covers them with his hand. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He shakes his head. “You still think…is _that_ why you’ve been moping around all week? Jesus, Dan, you were gone for _hours_ on Tuesday. Did you even talk to Phil?”

“Yes,” Dan says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Let me guess. You assumed you already knew what was going on and didn’t let Phil get a word in edgewise?”

Dan taps his fingers on his arm. “That’s not… _exactly_ what happened.”

Steven sighs and runs his hand over his face. “Did you at least tell Phil what you _thought_ was going on?”

“I…well I…”

“You didn’t. You just said you already knew, didn’t you? And he _believed_ you.” Steven groans, shaking his head. “Remind me to kill Phil.”

“I don’t see how this is any more his fault than yours.”

Steven closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. When he opens his eyes again, they are cold and stern. He places his hands on Dan’s shoulders. “Listen. I’m only going to say this one more time. I have never made — nor will I ever make — a move on Phil Lester. And trust me when I say, he doesn’t want me to.”

Dan stares at his brother for a long time. His brows are drawn together, but the look in his eyes spells frustration rather than true anger. Dan can’t find a hint of insincerity there.

“Something has been going on though,” Dan says.

“You’re right.” Steven nods. “But it’s not my place to tell you what it is. All I can do is tell you what it’s not.”

Dan backs out of Steven’s grasp. He puts a good meter of space between them before dropping his gaze to his shoes. “I’m still not sure I believe you,” he mutters. “But I’m sorry for slapping you.”

“It’s okay,” Steven says, and Dan thinks it might be the first time in their lives that Steven hasn’t responded to Dan’s anger with at least a threat of his own. Instead, he pulls out his phone, tapping out a message that Dan can’t see.

“What are you doing?”

“Texting Dodie that I’m going to be a little late,” Steven replies. He stuffs his phone back in his pocket. “Come on, get dressed. We’re going to Phil’s house, and you aren’t leaving until the two of you have actually talked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who didn’t see my tumblr post yesterday, I have once again ended up accidentally drawing things out for longer than I intended. So the bad news is that things won’t be resolved quite as soon as I thought, but the good news (maybe?) is that there will probably be more chapters than I planned. I’m thinking 22 total. Maybe 23. Idk. Apparently I’m bad at sticking to my plans. But everything will be resolved at some point! I promise you that!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: blood mentions, accidental self-injury, implied/referenced homophobia, incorrect assumptions about gender roles

**_April 2015_ **

It takes Dan more than a year to work up the nerve to tell his parents.

He almost tells them a dozen times before that. He works out his speech, practices in front of Steven or Phil (whichever happens to be available at the time), finds his parents, and then chickens out every time. Phil, with his infinite patience, never seems annoyed when Dan says “today is the day” even though Phil probably stopped believing him after the second time. Steven, on the other hand, has taken to rolling his eyes a lot.

When he finally does it, it isn’t anything like he planned. He hasn’t practiced his speech since the last time he almost told them, and Steven is at a party, so there’s no one to provide moral support. Dan is on his own, which should be fine because he doesn’t intend to say anything.

As he should have learned long ago, things don’t always go according to plan.

He is standing at the sink washing dishes after dinner when his mother asks him what he wants for his sixteenth birthday, which is almost two months away.

Dan shrugs, rinsing the suds off a plate and putting it on the drying rack. “I don’t know.” He picks up another plate and begins scrubbing it clean. “Well, actually…” He glances over his shoulder to find his mother looking at him, eyebrows raised expectantly. He clears his throat. “How would you feel about me getting my ears pierced?”

Before she can respond, Mr. Howell scoffs.

Dan shifts his gaze to the dining table, where his father hasn’t even bothered to look up from the book he is reading. “What?”

“Daniel, please. Earrings are for women, thugs, and gay men. Why on Earth would you want them?”

Dan’s stomach sinks. His feels bile creeping up his throat, and he swallows it back. Over the pounding in his ears, he can just barely hear his mother whisper his father’s name harshly.

He looks back to his mother and sees the worry in her eyes.

He drops the plate.

“Dan!” his mother says, rushing over to him.

He barely registers the sound of porcelain breaking, the warm, soapy water splashing onto his shirt, his mother’s words as she places her cool hands on his cheeks and asks him if he is okay. He can only focus on one thing.

He meets his mother’s warm, brown eyes and chokes back a sob. “You know, don’t you?”

Her forehead creases. Slowly, she nods. “Yes, Dan,” she sighs. “I know.”

“Know _what?_ ” comes the impatient voice across the room.

Dan’s mother removes her hands from Dan’s face and moves to stand beside him. He isn’t sure whether he misses the contact or not.

He looks to the dining table and finds that his father has set his book down and is staring at him, completely perplexed. Dan closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see that anymore.

He takes a deep breath.

Then another.

Exhales through his nose. Inhales.

Third try is the charm.

“I’m gay.”

The words come out squeaky and hardly louder than a whisper, but they still seem to echo through the house.

Then, nothing.

No one speaks for a long time. In truth, it’s probably less than a minute, but to Dan it feels like an eternity.

His mother is the first to break the silence. “Dan,” she says softly, taking him by the wrist and carefully uncurling his fingers. “You’re hurting yourself.”

It’s only then that Dan notices that he somehow managed to pick up a piece of the broken plate without realising it and has been gripping it so hard that his hand has started bleeding. He watches as his mother runs a paper towel under the tap and starts to clean the wound. He can’t help but think that it’s just another way he has let her down.

“Dan,” his father finally says. “I didn’t mean—”

Before he can finish his sentence, Dan yanks his hand out of his mother’s grasp and runs out of the room. He climbs the stairs two at the time, yanks the door to his room open, locks it behind him, and collapses onto his bed.

He is stupid for crying, he thinks, but that doesn’t stop his pillow from getting soaked. With all of his careful planning over the last year, he has imagined scenarios much worse than this. Still, he never accounted for this one specifically. He never thought he would be so unprepared, and he never expected his mother to know already. He honestly can’t decide which of his parents’ reactions was worse.

After a few minutes, there is a knock on his door, and his mother asks if she can come in. He tells her that he just wants to be alone, and she doesn’t push it. She tells him to let her know if he changes his mind, and then she walks away.

His father never even tries.

Just past three in the morning, he wakes up with a sore throat and a stiff neck, and he realises he has cried himself to sleep. He turns his head and sees that the bed across the room is still empty. Upon checking his phone, he finds that Steven is spending the night at the house where the party was held. Dan closes his eyes and sighs. For once, he really doesn’t want to be alone.

Eventually, he gathers the energy to get up and tiptoe downstairs to the kitchen. He washes the dried blood off his wounded hand and the dried tear tracks off his swollen face before getting himself a glass of water. The cool liquid hits the back of his aching throat, and he drinks the rest in one go. He didn’t realise how dehydrated he was.

As he finishes his second glass of water, an idea pops into his head. He creeps down the hall to his parents’ room and presses his ear to the door. As he hoped, they are both snoring soundly.

He goes back to his room to throw on his llama hoodie and a pair of trackies. He grabs his trainers too, but he doesn’t put them on yet.

The front door has squeaked for as long as Dan has lived in Manchester, so he makes his way back to the dining room and exits through the back. Cool, damp air hits him as soon as he steps outside, and he pulls his hood up and shivers, wishing England would hurry up and be warm already. Then he sees the trees swaying in the wind, spindly branches silhouetted against a smoky orange-tinted sky, and he thinks the temperature is the least of his problems.

He drops his shoes to the ground and slips his feet inside. Then, hoping that his neighborhood holds up to its relatively safe reputation, he crosses his arms and begins the walk to Phil’s house.


	19. Chapter 19

**_April 2016_ **

“Stop _pulling_ me.”

“If I don’t pull you, you might run off,” Steven says, neither letting go of Dan’s wrist nor slowing his brisk pace.

“What if I promise not to run off?”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Say it. Say ‘I promise not to run off.’”

“I promise not to run off.”

“Good! I’m glad.”

“Erm,” Dan says, “are you going to let me go now?”

“Nope. I just wanted you to agree to do what I asked for once. Since, you know, if you’d just listened to me in the first place, you wouldn’t be in this mess right now.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes, I really do.”

“No, because I’m the one who’s about to get you out of this mess.”

“What makes you think I can’t do that on my own?”

Steven stops in his tracks. He turns his head to look back at Dan and raises a single eyebrow. “Really?” He continues to lead Dan down the pavement.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Steven doesn’t answer.

When they arrive at Phil’s house, Steven takes Dan around to the back. They’ve both been to the Lesters’ enough times to know that they rarely lock their back door, and while Dan usually knocks out of politeness, Steven has no problem walking right in.

“Hi Mrs. Lester,” Steven chirps to the woman paying bills at the kitchen table. “Don’t mind me. I’m just here to shove Dan into your son’s room and then I’ll be right off.”

“Wait, you aren’t staying?” Dan asks, ignoring Mrs. Lester’s baffled expression.

“What part of ‘I have a date’ don’t you understand? Besides, you and Phil need to talk this out on your own.” Steven brings them to a stop in front of Phil’s bedroom door. Rapping his knuckles against it, he turns to Dan. “I expect a full report on what you learned by the end of the day. If you two still haven’t talked it all out, I’m burning your Yeezus shirt.” Phil still hasn’t answered, so Steven knocks again.

Dan gapes. “Why are you dragging Kanye into this?”

“One thing you love for every time I’m forced to fix you two knuckleheads’ problems. Seems like a fair trade.”

Before Dan can complain that it is very much _not_ fair, Steven bangs his fist on the door three times.

Finally, the door creaks open. They are met with a bleary-eyed Phil, hair mussed and glasses perched on the end of his nose as though he has been napping.

Or maybe he stayed in bed all day too.

“Dan?” He blinks a few times. “Steven?”

“I’m actually leaving,” Steven says before Dan can respond. He gives Dan a light push forward. “Phil, talk to him. Dan, listen.” And with that, he turns on his heel and leaves. His footsteps echo down the hall. From the kitchen comes a faint “Lovely seeing you Mrs. Lester!”

And then the house is quiet.

Dan clears his throat nervously. “Can I come in?”

Phil hesitates. He glances back at his room, then back to Dan. Finally, he nods and moves aside.

Dan passes by him, wringing his hands together the whole time. Phil closes the door behind him but doesn’t turn around. For a minute, they stand in silence.

Dan opens his mouth. Closes it. Takes a deep breath. Opens it again.

“I’m sorry.”

It isn’t Dan who says it.

Phil still has his back to Dan, and his hand is gripping the doorknob. His knuckles are white.

Dan places a hand on his shoulder and realises that it is trembling. “Phil?”

Phil turns around. His eyes aren’t just bleary; they’re bloodshot, and the dark circles underneath are worse than Dan has ever seen. Dan wonders if he has slept at all since Tuesday. Still, that isn’t the most upsetting thing about Phil’s normally bright eyes.

No, the worst thing is that they are welling up with tears.

Dan’s tired heart stutters in his chest. It has been years since he’s seen Phil cry.

Phil presses his lips into a tight line, fighting to keep the tears from falling. When he speaks, his voice sounds broken. “I guess Steven told you I’ve been wanting to say that all week. I…I don’t blame you for avoiding me, but I appreciate you coming here and letting me…” He trails off, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I’m just really glad you’re here. I don’t want to waste any more time being mad at each other.” He ducks his head. “Not that you’re just going to forgive me, but—”

“I do,” Dan says quickly. “I…Phil, I’m not sure what’s going on. I think I might not have been as clear on the situation as I thought, but just…whatever’s going on between you and Steven, it’s okay. God, if anyone should be apologising, it’s me.”

Phil is silent for a moment. Then he says, “What do you mean, between me and Steven?”

“I mean…” Dan starts. He drops his gaze to the floor and rubs the back of his neck. “On Tuesday, I heard you say the…er… _thing_ …about his face…and you’ve been drawing him in your sketchbook…”

“Wait,” Phil says. “You…you saw drawings in my sketchbook…of Steven?”

And then Phil does the craziest thing: he laughs.

Dan looks up in surprise.

Phil has a hand over his mouth. The tears he has been holding back begin to fall from his eyes, but he is positively _giggling_.

“What?” Dan asks, bewildered.

Phil shakes his head. Without any explanation, he walks to his bed, reaches underneath the mattress, and pulls out a familiar item: his sketchbook. He flips through the pages before finding the one he wants, and then he hands it to Dan.

“I’m guessing this is the one you saw?” Phil says, the corners of his mouth ticking up.

Dan looks at the sketch of the familiar head with curly hair. He nods.

“And you thought this was Steven because…”

“His hair, obviously,” Dan says, feeling a little exasperated. “Am I wrong?”

“Dan,” Phil says gently. “You have curly hair too.”

Dan’s heart picks up speed. He tries not to let himself be too hopeful. “I practically never wear it like that though.”

Phil chuckles again. “Yeah, I’ll say. I’ve had terrible luck trying to use you as a reference.”

Wait, what?

“Look again,” Phil says, pointing to the picture. “What else do you see?”

Dan does. A solid minute passes before he sees it.

The boy in the picture has dimples.

“Oh,” is all Dan can think to say.

“Yeah.” Phil smiles. “Oh.”

“This is me?” Dan asks, just to be sure.

“I can’t believe you thought otherwise,” Phil says, shaking his head. His smile fades. “Wait, if you thought it was Steven…what did you think that drawing was for?”

“I…” Dan says, but the words get stuck in his throat. He clears it and tries again. “Well I…you have to understand. I saw you staring at him a lot…and sitting next to him instead of me sometimes…and you were all distracted and secretive, and then I thought you were drawing pictures of him, and I just…I thought…”

Phil’s eyes widen. “Oh my god. You thought I had a crush on him.”

“You don’t?” Dan asks, because he still can’t believe this conversation is actually happening.

Phil shakes his head.

Dan pauses. There are so many questions rolling around in his head that he doesn’t even know where to start. “What was he doing at your house on Tuesday, then?”

“Modeling,” Phil says, pulling his phone out of his pocket and fiddling with it before handing it to Dan.

Dan flips through a dozen or so pictures. They’re all headshots of Steven.

“Couldn’t find any good reference pictures,” Phil explains, “and studying whichever one of you wasn’t paying attention wasn’t good enough, especially when it came to getting the hair right. I’m not all that practiced at drawing people, you know. So I asked Steven if I could take some pictures of him on Tuesday. You two look so similar, all I really needed to do was add that dimple.” He reaches out and pokes Dan’s cheek, and Dan tries not to be endeared.

“Why did you need to draw me with curly hair though?”

Phil hesitates. “It was supposed to be a surprise. But I might as well show you now.” He goes to his closet and pulls out a large, black book. He hands it to Dan with a small smile.

In gold letters, the cover reads “Six Years and Counting.”

“I wanted to have it done in time for the twelfth,” Phil says. “Pulled quite a few accidental all-nighters working on it.”

“What’s the twelfth?”

“It’s the day we met.” Dan isn’t sure, but he thinks Phil’s cheeks redden slightly. “Open it.”

Dan does. The first page contains a black ink and coloured pencil drawing of two children sitting side-by-side at a brown table. Blue butterflies fill the air around them.

“I wanted to make a scrapbook,” Phil rushes to explain. “Only, I realised that a lot of the memories I wanted to include were things we imagined or things we didn’t take pictures of. So I drew them instead.”

Dan nods but doesn’t look up. He turns the page to find a drawing of two astronauts. One holds a yellow star in his hand while the other holds a paintbrush dripping with the same color.

He keeps flipping through the book, finding drawing after drawing. Two figures sitting on either side of a tall tree, backs pressed against the bark, silhouetted against a pink and orange sky. Driving cars down Rainbow Road. Laying next to each other in a patch of grass, surrounded by music notes and daffodils. A person in a silver jacket tackling one in a grey hoodie into the snow.

He turns to the last page. It contains the most intricate drawing of all, though it isn’t coloured in.

In the background, the figures are leaning into each other on a bench — _their_ bench, Dan notes — wrapped in a blanket and looking up at the sky. In the corner, however, is a close up on two faces. One is hidden partially behind the other, though Dan recognises the sharp features. The other is a neater, more detailed version of the face Dan found in Phil’s sketchbook.

“It isn’t quite finished,” Phil says. “I still have to color that one, and I probably need to go back and add details to most of the pictures, but—”

“I love it,” Dan interjects. He points to the last picture. “Is this the night I came out to my parents?”

Phil nods sheepishly. “It’s one of my favourite memories.” He stares at Dan. His eyes are wide and earnest, but there’s a look in them that Dan can’t place. “Don’t get me wrong; I hated seeing you upset. But then…you weren’t upset anymore, and it was just us, and when you looked up at the stars…I’d never seen you look more at peace.” He pauses as though reflecting on the memory. “You were so beautiful.”

Dan’s mouth goes dry. He finds himself unable to speak. For a moment, he can’t even breathe.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to say anything. “I still can’t believe you thought I liked Steven,” Phil says. His eyes reflect humour, but Dan thinks he sees a hint of underlying sadness there.

“It seemed like a reasonable explanation at the time,” Dan mumbles.

“No.” Phil is definitely blushing now. “I mean…I thought you knew.”

Dan stares at him, mouth agape. After a moment, he takes a step forward, bringing them close enough together that he can make out every fleck of yellow in Phil’s blue eyes. They’re still rimmed with red, but Phil is giving him a nervous smile, and Dan can still picture that day in the park when it was snowflakes caught in Phil’s eyelashes rather than tears.

Slowly, carefully, Dan reaches out to cup Phil’s warm cheeks in his shaking hands. “Please tell me I’m not jumping to conclusions this time,” he whispers, because he couldn’t speak at a normal volume right now if he tried.

Phil shakes his head so minutely that Dan feels it more than sees it. “You’re not.”

Dan’s pulse skyrockets. After all the years he has spent imagining this, it seems like everything is happening too fast. He braces himself for the next revelation.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits.

It takes him longer than it should to realise that Phil is waiting for _him_ , has laid his heart out to bare and is waiting for Dan to make the next move. Words fail to form into coherent sentences in Dan’s mind, so he does the only thing he can think of to let Phil know how he feels.

He closes the space between them.

Phil’s lips are salty with dried tears, and Dan is pretty sure his own are horribly chapped, but that doesn’t stop them both from melting into each other’s touch, or stop Phil from lacing his fingers behind Dan’s neck and pulling him closer. Dan exhales shakily through his nose and slides his hands up to run through Phil’s increasingly disheveled hair. They move their lips slowly, never quite finding any rhythm, just testing the waters and enjoying the feeling of holding each other close.

It doesn’t last nearly long enough. When they pull apart, Dan misses the contact immediately, but he is soon distracted by the dazzling smile spreading across Phil’s face.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Phil says.

Dan nearly laughs. “ _You?_ I’ve been waiting a little over two years now.”

“Only two?” Phil teases, fiddling with the hair at the nape of Dan’s neck.

Dan’s eyes widen. “When did you…?”

“Do you remember the day you told me you were afraid of the dark?”

Dan shakes his head.

“Well you did. But you also told me how much you loved the stars, and I thought that was amazing, how you could find so much beauty in something you were afraid of, and how you could talk about it so openly. That was right before I drew the first picture I ever gave you.”

Dan’s eyes widen. “The astronaut? Phil, you were _eleven_. We’d known each other for what, a week?”

“It didn’t matter.” Phil leans his forehead against Dan’s and closes his eyes. “You told me once how lonely you were before you met me. How you didn’t have any friends. I don’t think I ever mentioned, but neither did I. The difference was, I was okay with that.”

“What do you mean?”

Phil opens his eyes, and the strange mix of humour and sadness is back. “This might come as a surprise to you, but I was kind of a weird kid. I was picked on for it. Nothing too bad, but between that and my introverted nature, it was enough to make me stop trying to make friends. I convinced myself I didn’t need them, that I was probably better off without them. So I stopped talking and stopped sitting near other people, and I started drawing to keep myself occupied while everyone else was busy having fun with their friends.”

He pauses, running his teeth across his lower lip. “But then you showed up. You came into my life right when I was finally accepting the fact that I was going to be the lonely weird kid forever, and you sat in the chair next to mine like you belonged there, and I couldn’t help but think you did.”

“Wait, is that why you sat next to me on my first day of school? I was just sitting next to your usual chair?”

Phil nods.

Dan chuckles. “And it didn’t occur to you that you could ask me to move? Or sit somewhere else?”

“It did. But, I don’t know, it just…it kind of felt like maybe it was meant to happen, like I’d just been given some great cosmic gift, and rejecting it would be the biggest mistake of my life.”

“Lot of pressure on an eleven-year-old.”

“I’ll say. But then you didn’t move away, and you trusted me with your hopes and dreams and fears like it was nothing more than small talk, and I knew I made the right choice.”

Dan’s mouth tugs upwards. “What did I do to deserve you?” He presses a small kiss onto Phil’s cheek, thrilled that he can do that now. “I’m sorry I’ve been so jealous these last couple of weeks, and I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions without knowing what was really going on.” He chuckles. “And to think, all this time you were just doing something nice for me. Making me a present just to celebrate our friendship. You unbelievable sap.”

For a split second, Dan thinks Phil’s smile falters. “Y-yeah,” Phil says. “Yeah, just to…yeah.”

Behind his neck, Dan feels Phil’s fingers moving rapidly, though they’re no longer playing with Dan’s hair. It takes Dan a minute to figure out what he is doing.

Phil is picking at his fingernails.

Dan’s blood runs cold.

He backs out of Phil’s arms, putting a meter of space between them before studying Phil’s face.

The other boy won’t meet his eyes.

“Phil?” Dan’s voice cracks, but he doesn’t care.

Phil finally looks at him, and Dan sees that his eyes are beginning to brim with tears again. “Can’t we just be happy for a few minutes?”

All of Dan’s worst fears come rushing back at once. Phil is sick. Phil is dying. Any moment, Phil is going to tell him he has cancer in every part of his body and he’s going to die and leave Dan alone and—

“Dan,” Phil says. He takes Dan’s face in his clammy, trembling hands.

Dan thinks he’s going to be sick.

“Dan, look at me.”

He can’t.

“Whatever’s going through your mind right now is probably way worse than what it actually is. But I need for you to look at me.” It almost sounds like Phil is pleading. Maybe he is. Pleading for Dan to listen, to _understand_.

The truth is, Dan hasn’t been a very good listener lately. He has taken small pieces of evidence and jumped to conclusion after conclusion, the worries in his head drowning out the things he really should have noticed. Had he not been so caught up in his own anxieties, it might not have taken him so long to notice the things his brother noticed days ago. Like the strange barrenness of Phil’s normally colorful bedroom walls, or the cardboard boxes starting to pile up in the hallway, or the sign in the front yard.

Dan meets Phil’s eyes, but he can’t see them clearly anymore. His own have gone blurry.

And then Phil says the words that Dan never expected to hear, but that will change his life forever:

“I’m moving.”


	20. Chapter 20

**_April 2015_ **

By the time Dan arrives at Phil’s house, he is shaking so hard he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop. Whether it’s from coldness or fear, he isn’t sure.

He trudges to Phil’s window and peers inside. It’s too dark to see much of anything, but when he taps on the glass, he thinks he sees movement inside. Moments later, a desk lamp comes on and the window slides open to reveal a bleary-eyed Phil.

Phil blinks. Puts his glasses on. Blinks again. “Dan?” he says, offering his hand without question.

Dan answers with an apologetic smile. He takes the hand, and Phil pulls as Dan climbs through the window and onto the desk. He stays there, swinging his legs over the edge and bouncing them nervously with his feet on Phil’s chair.

There’s a pause while they both wait for the other to speak, Dan staring at his lap and Phil staring at Dan. Then Phil exhales sharply, and Dan braces himself to be asked what in the world he is doing here at nearly four in the morning.

Instead, Phil asks, “Are you okay?” He isn’t quite whispering, but his voice is low and gentle.

On his way over, Dan entertained the idea of pretending that everything was fine, that he simply had the sudden urge to act on some rebellious teenage impulse and sneak out for no reason other than a nice video game and movie night with his friend. He should have known it was a foolish thought.

“Yeah,” he croaks, even as he feels his throat start to close and his eyes start to water once more.

Phil doesn’t argue; he just pushes in closer and wraps his arms around Dan’s shoulders. It’s a little awkward, as he has to lean over the desk chair to do it, but his body is sleep-warm and soft, and Dan hugs back gratefully.

“You’re shivering,” Phil mumbles into Dan’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Dan repeats.

“Did you walk all the way here?”

“Yeah.”

“Dan, it’s twelve blocks.” He looks up. “Don’t say ‘yeah.’”

“Okay,” Dan says.

Phil shakes his head and laughs softly. “You could’ve called me. I would’ve come to you.”

“Then you would have had to walk twelve blocks.”

“I’m not scared of the dark.”

Dan shrugs.

“I can’t wait ‘til I turn seventeen,” Phil says, rubbing Dan’s back. “Then I can drive to your house whenever you’re sad.”

“You won’t drive without a license but you’ll steal your parents’ car?” Dan says, refusing to acknowledge the important part of what Phil said, though he feels his cheeks heat up.

“Martyn’s thinking of getting a new car. Maybe he’ll give me his old one for my birthday.”

Dan scoffs. “Riding in the Allegro might just be scarier than walking in the dark.”

Phil smiles into his shoulder. “Perhaps.”

They lapse into silence again, Phil rubbing Dan’s back and Dan holding on tight.

Then Phil says, “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Dan shakes his head. “Not right now.”

Phil nods in understanding. He hugs Dan for a few more seconds, then squeezes before letting go. He pads across the room and grabs the duvet off his bed, draping it over his shoulders and returning to Dan. He nudges Dan to the side and crawls onto the desk with no explanation, ducking through the open window before landing softly on the ground.

Dan twists around and peers through the window. Phil grins back at him.

“Come on then,” he says, and Dan slides through the window without question.

Phil holds out one side of the duvet so that Dan can slip in next to him. They start down the pavement, shoulders pressed together, each clutching one edge.

“Where are we going?” Dan tries to ask, but Phil shushes him. They’re more than halfway there before Dan realises the answer.

The park looks different at night. The trees make terrifying shapes against the sky, and Dan leans into Phil a little more. They locate their bench, bathed in the orange glow of a streetlamp, and sit down together at the same time.

Phil’s eyes immediately drift upward. “I wish there was less light pollution,” he says, which is strange, as Phil doesn’t normally wish for things that can’t happen.

Dan shrugs. “It makes it easier to walk around at night, I guess.”

“Do you still like the stars?”

“Yes,” Dan answers, even as he realises that he isn’t looking at them. As usual, he is too busy staring at Phil.

Phil raises his arm, and Dan follows it with his eyes. “See that reddish one over there? That’s you.”

Dan bites the inside of his cheek. “That’s Mars, Phil.”

“You’re Mars, then.” He moves his finger to the right. “And that one’s me.”

“Saturn.”

“So we’re both planets,” Phil says. “We still outshine the stars.”

Dan hides his smile in Phil’s shoulder. “You’re so fucking cheesy.”

“Made you smile though.”

Dan chuckles. “So it did.”

The dark is so much nicer now, Dan thinks. It was quiet and lonely before, but now he hears crickets and rustling leaves and Phil’s breathing, and the trees seem somehow friendlier. He imagines Mars and Saturn and the few visible stars falling out of the sky and landing in their branches. It makes him feel braver.

“I accidentally came out to my parents tonight,” he finally says.

Phil nods as if he expected this. “I’m guessing it didn’t go very well.”

Dan shrugs. “It could have gone worse.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t go better.”

“Me too.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Dan shakes his head. “I’d rather talk about the stars some more.”

Phil does, picking out the few dots of light he can see and giving them names. The pinkish one is Louise. The little twinkly one is Colin. The bright one in the middle of several faint ones is Steven.

“Do you ever wish you were someone else?” Dan asks suddenly.

“No,” Phil replies easily. “Because no one else is your best friend.”

Dan is thankful that it’s probably too dark for Phil to see him blush. “Steven’s better than me at everything. Better at school, better at talking to people, better at meeting expectations…” He chews his lip while he decides whether to put words to the fear he has had for so long. “Sometimes I think my parents like him better.”

“They don’t.”

“He’s the perfect son,” Dan argues. “They didn’t even know they were having twins, did you know? They only wanted one kid, but they got me too. Steven is everything they could have asked for, and I’m just the reject child.”

“Don’t say that about my best friend,” Phil says, wrapping an arm around Dan’s shoulders. “You’re far too special to be a reject.”

“There’s nothing special about me.”

“One day, Dan,” Phil sighs, and it sounds familiar for a reason Dan can’t place. “One day you’ll realise.”

Dan doesn’t respond. He doesn’t have to, because a moment later, Phil continues.

“Also, don’t tell Steven, but you’re my favourite.”

Dan just smiles and snuggles in closer, resting his head on Phil’s shoulder. “Tell me a story,” he says.

If Phil thinks this is a strange request, he covers it up well. “Once upon a time,” he starts, his voice low and quiet, “there was a very lonely planet called Saturn…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter dedicated to maggiemoooo13 on tumblr, who drew a scene from the previous chapter and nearly made me cry.


	21. Chapter 21

**_April 2016_ **

_I’m moving._

The words echo in Dan’s head, almost loud enough to fill the deafening silence. Neither he nor Phil has said anything for at least a minute. Maybe longer. It certainly feels like longer, but Dan isn’t sure he can trust his sense of time. Right now, he isn’t sure he can trust anything.

Finally, he decides to trust his voice, even though he knows it will come out broken and ugly. “Moving to a different house in the same neighborhood?”

The heartbroken look Phil gives him tells him the answer before Phil himself does. “My dad got a job in London,” Phil says, voice soft. He sounds like he is trying hard to be brave. “It-it pays a lot better than his old job, and my mum has always wanted to live in London…” He trails off as though even he can’t convince himself that this move is actually a good idea.

“When?”

Phil sucks in a breath, lets it out slowly. “Two weeks.”

Dan shakes his head. That can’t be right. That’s too _soon_. “You can’t even stay through the end of the school year?”

Phil looks pained. “Trust me, I’ve had that argument with my parents plenty of times over the last month.” And that might be the strangest news yet. Phil is a model child. He never argues with his parents.

Something else catches Dan’s attention, however. “You’ve known for a month?”

Phil hangs his head. “I know I should’ve told you sooner. I just…I only found out Monday that the house was officially sold. Before that, I was hoping they might change their minds, and then I was hoping I could finish your present in time to at least soften the blow, and then I thought you already knew…”

Dan doesn’t know what to say anymore. He opens his mouth, but his thoughts are such a jumbled mess of _no_ and _why_ and _stay_ that he can’t string any of it into a coherent sentence. So he doesn’t say anything. He stands there and gapes like a fish, and he hopes that this is all a bad dream.

“I’ll come to visit,” Phil says in a single breath.  “It’s only a couple of hours by train. Really not far at all, when you think about it.”

 _But who will I talk to at school?_ Dan wants to ask. _Whose house will I go to when I don’t want to be at my own?_

_Who will be my best friend now?_

“We’ll still be best friends,” Phil says, and it’s only then that Dan realises he said the last question aloud.

Dan swallows. “But we won’t be anything else.”

“Long distance relationships are hard,” Phil agrees.

Dan looks down. As he does, he sees pale fingers lace between his own.

“I’d like to try though.”

Dan’s head shoots up. “Really?”

Phil nods, the barest hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I meant what I said. We’re going to stay best friends no matter what; I’ll make sure of that much. But…I mean…it seems a shame to let this new thing go when it’s only just started, and I don’t see myself getting over you anytime soon…or ever, for that matter. So I’d be up for it. If you are, that is. I mean—”

Phil never gets to finish his sentence. He is cut short by Dan throwing his arms around Phil’s neck and pulling him in for another kiss.

* * *

The day arrives much too soon. Dan knows that a fortnight isn’t a very long span of time, but each day he spends with Phil feels like the shortest day ever, and the two weeks pass even faster than expected.

Mr. and Mrs. Howell agree to take Dan and Steven to the train station to send the Lesters off. They arrive an hour before the time they agreed to be there (Dan was worried that they would be late), but thankfully, they only have to wait about five minutes, as Phil had similar ideas.

Dan stands up the second he catches sight of the familiar head of black hair. “Phil!” he calls, ignoring the people who shoot him funny looks and focusing only on the blue eyes that light up as they meet his own.

Phil literally runs across the station, his giant rolling suitcase wobbling along behind him. Dan might laugh at the sight if his brain wasn’t currently warring between his happiness at seeing Phil and his sadness at knowing he will have to say goodbye soon.

“Hi,” Phil says as he comes to a stop right in front of Dan. Had he stopped a second later, he would have crashed into him.

“Hi,” Dan echoes.

They stare at each other for a moment before simultaneously pulling each other in for a tight hug.

“Do you think we could stay like this until it’s time for you to leave?” Dan mumbles into Phil’s shoulder.

“That’s more than an hour from now,” Phil says.

“I know. It’s not nearly long enough.”

Dan half expects Phil to laugh, but Phil just holds him tighter.

“Glad to see you boys found each other so quickly,” a nearby voice laughs, and they both look up to find that Phil’s parents have caught up with their son.

“Hi Mr. and Mrs. Lester,” Dan says. Over the last two weeks, he has been working on not feeling resentful towards Phil’s parents for taking their son away from Dan. And really, with their warm and friendly personalities so reminiscent of Phil’s, he can’t stay too mad at them anyway.

“Dan,” Mrs. Lester says, smiling and opening her arms. “Glad you could be here.”

Dan lets himself be wrapped in her arms. “Me too.”

They let go after a moment, and Dan turns to Phil’s father. He extends his hand, which Mr. Lester glances at with a neutral expression before pulling him in for his third Lester hug of the day.

“Thank you for being such a good friend to my son,” he whispers. “I promise we’ll take good care of him for you.”

Dan doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just nods.

The rest of Dan’s family starts chatting with Phil’s parents, so Dan and Phil retreat to a nearby bench. Phil places his hand in the space between them, and Dan takes it as an invitation to place his own on top of it. Their families appear to be too wrapped up in a conversation about the merits of living in a big city to notice, but Dan decides he doesn’t really care if they do.

They haven’t told anyone about their relationship yet. After a great deal of discussion, they decided to see if they could make the long-distance thing work before breaking the news to their families. Still, Dan thinks being able to hold Phil’s hand before he goes is worth the risk of having to explain themselves in the middle of a crowded train station. So they stay like that, fingers interlaced and eyes fixed on the passersby, until it’s almost time for Phil’s train is to arrive. They don’t speak. They don’t need to. All they need now is the comfort of each other’s company.

With less than ten minutes left to go, Phil turns to Dan suddenly. “I have something for you,” he announces and reaches into his backpack. He pulls out a familiar black book and hands it to Dan. “I finished it.”

Dan takes the book with almost-steady hands and starts to open it, but Phil places his hand on the cover.

“Not yet,” Phil says gently. “Wait until I’m gone so you still have something to look forward to.”

Dan can’t make himself respond, so he nods and clutches the book to his chest. He refuses to let himself cry again.

“Alright,” a nearby voice says. They look up to find Steven standing in front of their bench with a hand on his hip. “Sorry to interrupt this tender moment, but I thought you platonic bros might like to know that Phil’s parents went for a last-minute trip to the bathrooms, and Mum and Dad went to go wait in the car. So if anyone — not saying you two, but anyone in the general vicinity — wanted to, oh I don’t know, make out or something, I’m planning on listening to loud music with my back turned for the next two minutes.” He raises his eyebrows pointedly. “Just thought I’d put that out there.” And with that, he turns around and slips his earbuds into his ears.

“Did you tell him?” Phil asks.

Dan shakes his head. “No, but I’m starting to think he really is psychic.”

“That, or you’re just very easy to read.”

“You didn’t know I had a crush on you for over two years.”

“I’m not your twin.”

“And thank goodness for that.”

They both grin.

“So,” Dan says, “about that whole making out thing…”

Phil looks around, probably making sure that his parents haven’t returned yet, before leaning in to peck Dan’s lips. It’s fast and chaste and somehow leaves Dan blushing even more than he thinks a regular kiss would have.

His cheeks are still warm when Phil’s parents return.

“The train should be here any minute,” Mr. Lester says. He looks at Phil. “You’ve got all your things?”

“Yep,” Phil answers, standing up and placing a hand on the handle of his suitcase.

His parents nod in approval. “Good to see you, Dan,” Mrs. Lester says. She turns to Dan’s brother, who has taken not just one but both of his earbuds out in acknowledgement, the little suck up. “Steven.”

“It was nice to see you both too,” Steven says with a large smile before Dan can respond. “Mrs. Lester, before you go, what was it you were telling me about that restaurant in London you want to try?”

The next thing Dan knows, Steven and the elder Lesters are engrossed in a conversation. Dan says a silent thank you to his twin for his annoyingly charming personality. He tries not to be alarmed when, at the same moment, Steven catches his eye and gives him a look that clearly says “you’re welcome.”

Dan feels slender fingers slip between his own again, and he lets Phil drag him a few feet away from their families.

“One last thing,” Phil says when they are probably out of earshot. “I need you to promise me something.”

The urge to blurt the word “anything” rises in Dan’s throat, but he smothers it and manages to keep his voice low and relatively steady as he responds, “What is it?”

“I want you to make friends while I’m in London.” As Phil speaks, the ground begins to rumble with the movement of a nearby train. “I know it’s hard — believe me, I do — but I know you can do it. You’re so wonderful, Dan, much more so than you realise, but you rarely give people a chance to see that.” The front of the train appears in the distance. “And as much as I love the fact that I’m the one you decided to trust, I don’t want you to spend all our time apart feeling lonely.”

The train pulls up to the platform, screeching as it comes to a stop.

“Please just try,” Phil finishes.

Dan only hesitates for a moment before he gives a curt nod. “Okay. I’ll try to make friends if you will.”

The smile Phil gives him is small but genuine. “Thank you.”

“Phil!” Mrs. Lester’s voice rises over the crowd. “Come on now, it’s time to go!”

Phil squeezes Dan’s hand one last time before turning to leave.

“Wait,” Dan says, clutching Phil’s fingertips before he can get away.

Phil looks back at him in surprise.

“I love you,” Dan blurts. He hasn’t said it until now — neither of them has — but Dan thinks that he can’t be rushing into it too much if they both know it has been true for much longer than the two weeks that they have been dating. Surely, Phil must know already.

Phil doesn’t look shocked or disgusted, so that must be a good sign. He grins at Dan with his tongue between his teeth and runs his thumb over Dan’s knuckles. Then Phil’s parents call his name again, and he drops Dan’s hand and jogs over to meet them.

Dan tries not to feel disappointed.

He searches the crowd for the mop of black hair and finds it near the entrance to one of the train’s compartments. He watches as pale hands lift to cup around an unwavering smile.

And then Phil — quiet Phil, who rarely talks to anyone and is soft-spoken even around the people he trusts the most — shouts above the din of the crowded train station:

“I love you too!”

People turn to stare. Phil’s parents look at their son in shock.

Dan doesn’t notice. He’s staring at Phil too.

 _God_ , he loves him.

When they finally recover from their surprise, Phil’s parents board the train. With a final wave goodbye, Phil climbs in after them. Dan watches as they disappear into their compartment. He wonders how the conversation will go when Phil has to explain his actions, but for some reason, he isn’t worried. They were going to wait a little longer to tell their families, make sure they could actually handle the long distance thing first, but it doesn’t matter. He is sure they would have to tell them eventually anyway.

As the train pulls away from the station, a nearby voice echoes his thoughts. “You two are going to be okay.”

Dan turns to look at his brother. “Just a feeling?”

Steven smirks. “Nope.” He slings an arm over Dan’s shoulders and leads him towards the exit. “Come on, Romeo. I think Mum knows why she’s waiting in the car, but Dad is probably becoming more confused by the second. The poor, clueless sap.”

Dan sighs. “Does Mum just know everything?”

Steven nods. “She takes after me.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Huh.”

They reach the parking lot and climb into the back of their parents’ car. They’re halfway home when Dan realises that he still has the book tucked under his arm. He closes his eyes and runs his fingers along its spine, and he can still see Phil’s wide eyes twinkling before him.

He manages to wait until he is back in his bedroom to finally crack the book open. Most of the pictures appear unchanged, though he is sure Phil believes he has improved them. The picture of that night on the bench has been coloured in though, a navy sky seamlessly flowing into a golden horizon.

Dan runs a finger over the two bright dots at the top of the page. He starts to close the book, causing the page to slide back a little and something to peek out from behind it. He turns the page to find that Phil has added another drawing.

This one is relatively simple compared to the one before it, but Dan thinks it might be his favourite. Two figures stand in the middle of the page, arms wrapped around each other, lips meeting in a kiss. They are drawn in nothing more than black ink, but all around them, colours explode.

Dan stares at it for a long time. He stares until his phone buzzes in his pocket, and even then, he finds it difficult to tear his eyes away.

He unlocks his phone to find that he has received a text from Phil letting him know that the uncomfortable silence has passed and Phil’s parents are now bombarding him with questions. They sound excited rather than mad, Phil is pretty sure, and he wants to know if Dan is okay with him telling them the truth.

Dan closes the book and tucks it safely under his bed before tapping out an affirmative reply. Phil responds with a string of gleeful emojis, and Dan smiles at the screen.

 _We’re going to be okay_ , Dan thinks.


	22. Chapter 22

**_April 2015_ **

Dan wakes to find that the sky is now a dark, smoky blue, the first hints of orange just visible at the bottom.

He only meant to close his eyes for a moment. Clearly, that didn’t work out. He wonders what woke him, and then he notices the hand raking through his hair.

He lifts his head to find Phil smiling down at him.

“Sorry to wake you. Didn’t want you to miss it.”

“Don’t be. I’m sorry for falling asleep,” Dan responds, then he squints. “Miss what?”

“This,” Phil says, pointing straight ahead.

Dan follows his finger and gasps. In the time since he last looked, the horizon has gone from dull orange to brilliant gold, and the greyish clouds are suddenly streaked with pink. He notices that the birds have started chirping and crazily thinks that it’s almost as if they are the ones filling the sky with color.

“No wonder you like sunrises,” Dan says in awe. “I can’t believe I haven’t watched one before.”

“It isn’t just because it’s pretty,” Phil explains, and Dan would normally chalk that up to Phil’s strangeness, but he thinks he might actually understand for once. “It’s the beginning, or the moment right before the beginning, when most of the world is still asleep. You never know what the rest of the day will bring. It makes me feel like anything could happen.”

“It’s a little terrifying when you put it like that.”

“A little,” Phil agrees. “But it’s mostly exciting.”

It is, Dan thinks.

He checks his phone. Nearly six in the morning. He’ll have to go soon if he doesn’t want his parents to realise he left.

He looks up again and sees Phil staring at the sky, looking more content than Dan thought possible for anyone to look.

A few more minutes can’t hurt.

He relaxes into Phil’s shoulder once more, and Phil rests his head on Dan’s, and Dan thinks about Phil’s words.

_Anything could happen._

He doesn’t know what the coming day will bring. Or the year, or the rest of their lives. But for once, he’s okay with that. Right now, in this very moment, Phil is next to him, and they are watching the sunrise, and they are best friends. It doesn’t matter that Dan might never get over his crush or that they might never be anything but friends or that Dan will probably get reamed out when he finally goes home and his parents realise he snuck out.

He has Phil, and everything is okay.

No.

Everything is beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue left to go now guys!


	23. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S OVER. This story, sappy though it is, is closer to my heart than anything I’ve written before, I think, and I’m so thankful for those of you who enjoyed it too. I’m going to stop before things get too soppy, but I hope you guys like the last chapter.

_**August 2018** _

The train ride from Manchester to London is, on average, two hours and eight minutes long. Like the names of the stars in his favourite constellations and the exact shades of blue, green, and yellow in Phil’s eyes, Dan knows this fact by heart.

It’s the perfect length of time to watch a movie, and over the course of the last two years, Dan has sat through plenty of them while slumped in a seat at the back of a train with his computer balanced on his lap. Today, however, he knows that his nerves won’t allow him to concentrate on a film for more than five minutes.

You see, it’s one thing to come to London for a monthly visit. Finally moving there is something else entirely.

Dan knows he doesn’t have any real reason to be nervous yet. Classes don’t start for another five days, and it isn’t as though this will bring about a huge change in his relationship. He and Phil already talk to each other on Skype almost daily, and soon they’ll both be so busy with classes that they probably won’t have time to see each other face-to-face much more than they do now. The only difference is that, when Dan is feeling lonely, Phil’s house will only be a twenty-minute cab ride away.

So why is his heart beating so fast?

As it turned out, making a long distance relationship work wasn’t the most difficult part of Dan’s final year of secondary school. The biggest challenge was dealing with Dan’s anxiety problems, which only got worse as school got harder. So, at the insistence of his parents and the encouragement of Phil, he took a gap year instead of going straight to university and spent the time working at Tesco and seeking help. To his own begrudging admittance, it has been working.

He takes a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds and letting it out slowly the way his therapist taught him. Change is good, he reminds himself. Change is what brought him to Phil. It’s what allowed them to go from strangers to friends to boyfriends, and it’s what’s bringing him back to Phil now. Good things will come out of this new journey. He can do this.

He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a large book, the corners bent from all the places Dan has lugged it around, the gold lettering darkened from repeated touches with oily hands. He runs his fingers over it now before cracking the cover.

The pages inside are almost as bright and new as they were the day Phil moved to London. Dan doesn’t allow himself to look at them too often; he tries to preserve the magic for the days he really needs it.

Today is one of those days.

He flips through the pages at what most people would think is an excruciatingly slow pace. To the casual observer, it might seem strange that the boy can spend ten minutes staring at the same picture, as though trying to memorise every last detail. What that observer wouldn’t know is that he memorised them all long ago. He isn’t studying them. He is remembering.

Most of the time, memories of the last eight years come back to Dan in fleeting bursts, a certain song or word or smell reminding him of days long past. Whenever he looks at Phil’s drawings, however, he is launched back through time and space. He can hear the chatter in the old cafeteria, feel the snow on his back, taste Phil’s lips the way they were the first time they kissed. The book probably doesn’t have actual magical powers, but Dan isn’t ruling out the possibility.

Twice in the last two years, Phil asked to keep the book in between their twice-monthly visits. This resulted in a lot of reluctance on Dan's part but also two new drawings in the long run, so Dan can’t really complain. He spends even longer looking at these, as if making up for all the time he didn’t have them.

The first of the new pictures is of a crowded train station, but most of the people in it are dull and blurred. The only two that aren’t stand in the middle, done in brilliant color, hugging each other tightly.

The second is only a few months old. It’s a hyper-realistic depiction of two smiling faces, each with a set of cat whiskers painted on the nose. Phil has been steadily refining his skills since he started his fine arts degree at UCL. The first time Dan saw this drawing, he had trouble believing it wasn’t a photo. It’s the caption below it, however, that Dan loves the most.

> _Dan,_ it reads.
> 
> _I suppose at this point this is becoming too clear of a pattern to even hope you will be surprised, but I think there is something to be said for tradition. Don’t get me wrong; surprises are nice too. But returning to the same thing again and again with the same love and enthusiasm you had for it the first time, even when time and distance stand in your way…I think that’s even better._
> 
> _What I’m trying to say is, do you think we should make the cat whiskers a yearly thing?_
> 
> _We’ve made it through a lot together over the last two years and even before that, and I have no doubt that we have many adventures ahead of us still. And maybe a few surprises as well._
> 
> _A few months from now, you’ll be going on a new adventure, and I’m going to be right there beside you. Just be patient a little longer. Everything is going to turn out great._
> 
> _Happy anniversary!_
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _Phil_

Dan rereads the note a dozen times before turning the page again.

The final pages are Dan’s own additions. Granted, Phil is the one who drew them, but Dan is the one who decided that their rightful place was stuck between the other drawings and the back cover. The astronaut and the star-filled tree have faded a little with age, and Phil would be quick to point out that he wasn’t as skilled back then, but somehow they still mean the most to Dan, even after all these years. Maybe especially after all these years.

The train coming to a stop takes him by surprise. He looks around for the source of the delay, only to realise they are already in Euston Station. He gets off the train, finds the cabbie holding a sign with his name on it, and gets into the cab that will take him to his new home.

* * *

In both size and style, Dan’s dorm room is vaguely reminiscent of a shoebox. But after spending the first nineteen years of his life sharing a larger room with a roommate he didn’t want, he is happy for the privacy that his single-bed shoebox will provide. His parents have expressed concern that he might be lonely, but with all the nights that Steven has snuck out to see his on-and-off girlfriend over the last couple of years, Dan has discovered that having an empty room to retreat to is somewhat akin to taking a breath of fresh air.

Besides, it isn’t like he doesn’t know anyone in the dorms.

He barely has time to set his suitcase down when quick footsteps sound from the hallway to his room.

“Dan!” a familiar voice squeals as he is enveloped in a tight hug from behind. “I thought you’d never get here.”

“Can’t breathe,” Dan chokes out, and he feels the arms around his torso loosen. He turns around and returns the hug. “It’s good to see you too.”

“Did you see my room on your way in?” He doesn’t even have time to answer. “I knew we’d be in the same hall, but I didn’t know we’d be next-door neighbours! I mean, how lucky is that?” His new neighbour squeezes him again, releasing when Dan lets out an _oof_. Soft hands grab his own and ocean-coloured eyes sparkle with joy. “We’re going to have the best year. I just know it.”

A cough sounds from the doorway.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Dan looks up to find a tall, lanky figure leaning against the doorframe, a small grin playing at his lips.

“Phil!” Dan shouts, running to the door so fast that he nearly tackles his boyfriend to the ground when he throws his arms around him.

Phil laughs and hugs him back. “Hi. I missed you too.”

“Oi,” Dan’s neighbour says, crossing the room and putting a hand on her hip. “Who do you think you are, waltzing in here and stealing my Dan without so much as a ‘how d’you do?’”

Phil chuckles, letting go of Dan to wrap the girl in a warm hug. “Nice to see you too, Louise. Now what is this about _your_ Dan?”

“It’s true,” Dan confirms, throwing his arm around Louise’s shoulders as she lets go of Phil. “Sorry, Phil, I’m Louise’s now.”

Louise nods.

Phil shrugs and turns towards the door. “Oh well. Guess I’ll just have to find a new boyfriend to show my new flat to.”

Dan pulls his arm away so fast he nearly elbows Louise in the face. She responds with an offended squawk, which he ignores in favour of grabbing the back of Phil’s shirt to keep him from leaving. “What do you mean, _new flat_?”

Phil turns around, already smirking. “Oh, that? Just a little one-bedroom thing, but it is right across the street from campus so…”

“I thought you said you were going to be living with your parents again this year!”

“Did you believe me?” Phil asks, looking far too excited about tricking Dan. “PJ says I’m getting better at lying.”

Dan narrows his eyes, though he has trouble holding back his laughter. “I knew those art school friends of yours were a bad influence.”

“I promise to only use my new powers for good.”

“Just promise you’ll start letting me know when you move.”

“Hopefully you’ll be moving in with me next time that happens.” Phil manages to sound nonchalant, but Dan doesn’t miss the hint of pink dusting his cheeks.

Dan loops his arms around Phil’s waist and smiles. “Really think we can talk our parents into that?”

Phil tilts his head forward, bringing himself close enough that Dan feels warm breath on his face when Phil speaks. “With the high cost of living alone in London? I think we can wear them down.”

Dan leans a little closer.

“Ahem.”

They look up so fast that their heads bump together.

“Hello!” Louise says, wiggling her fingers. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m still here and you lot are blocking the doorway.” She appears completely unbothered by her unintentional third wheeling, despite the flush Dan is sure is painting his own cheeks. “Also, might want to put the sheets on before things get too heated.” She scrunches her nose. “Wouldn’t trust these dorm beds.”

“Thanks, Lou,” Dan grumbles, rubbing the sore spot where his forehead collided with Phil’s. Phil brushes his hand away and kisses the spot, and Dan’s cheeks grow even warmer.

“I actually have to get going,” Phil says.

“What?” Dan’s face falls. “But you just got here.”

“Well, I _was_ planning a surprise dinner for my boyfriend and needed to go check on the roast, but if he’s going to pout about it, I suppose I could let it get charred.”

Dan’s eyes grow wide. “Phil! You’re going to burn down your new flat!”

“Relax. I’ve got it cooking at a low temp. It shouldn’t even be done for another…” He pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “Actually, I really need to go.”

Dan shakes his head before pecking Phil’s lips. “Go. I need to unpack anyway. See you in an hour or so?”

Phil nods and turns towards the door. “Sounds like a plan. Love you!” he calls over his shoulder as he leaves.

“Bye, Phil!” Louise calls after him.

Phil peeks his head around the doorframe and smiles apologetically. “Bye, Louise.” And then he is gone again.

Dan doesn’t realise that he is staring down the hall with a crooked smile on his face until Louise speaks again.

“More than eight years now, and you still look completely lovesick every time he leaves.”

“Phil and I have only been dating for two years. And I’ve only been friends with you for about as long.”

Louise scoffs. “Please. I could see the hearts in your eyes back when we were ten. Everyone could.”

Dan opens his mouth to argue but changes his mind. “We went to primary school together?”

If Louise is offended, she does a good job of hiding it. “Figures you were too busy staring at Phil to notice,” she says, rolling her eyes and grinning.

“Hmph,” Dan replies.

Louise pats his face. “Don’t worry. He looks at you the same way.”

Dan refuses to let himself blush again. “Will you help me unpack?” he asks, trying to change the subject.

Louise agrees, though she claims to only be doing so in order to catch up on all the latest Manchester gossip. They are trying (and failing) to put the fitted sheet on his mattress while he recounts as much information as he knows about Steven and Dodie’s on-again-off-again relationship when half of said couple texts him.

> **_Dan!! Steven forgot to tell me that today was the day you were moving to London (typical), otherwise I would have said goodbye! Anyway, I just wanted to say good luck, and I hope your dorm is the least amount of terrible that a dorm can be, and I know you’re going to do just great, you future astronomer you ^_^_ **
> 
> **_In other news, your brother has proposed to me again. He has now stooped to bribing me with vegetarian tacos. Don’t be fooled if you get an excited text from him later; I was just hungry._ **

As if on cue, the second he sends Dodie the customary “thank you”/“sorry for my brother” text, his phone buzzes again.

> **_Start writing your best man speech she finally agreed!!!! I think. Maybe_ **

And then:

> **_Oh yeah also hows london_ **

Dan informs Steven that he is an idiot.

> **_Funny she said the same thing_ **

“What about you, then?”

Dan jumps, nearly dropping his phone and turning to find that Louise has been reading over his shoulder. As usual. “Huh?”

“What about you? Is Steven the only Howell twin popping questions these days?”

Dan gives up and accepts the fact that his face is probably going to stay red forever. “W-well.” He coughs. “You see, it’s just kind of, erm, early for that. I mean, I’m not saying never, but I-I’m just not sure we’re, you know…” He coughs again. “There…yet.”

Louise’s eyes are wide. Dan watches as the corners of her lips slowly rise into a devilish smile. “Yet?”

Dan covers his face with his hands. “Shut up.”

“I was mostly kidding. I didn’t realise you’d already put so much thought into this.”

“I haven’t,” he lies.

Louise gives him a knowing look and goes back to trying to get the fitted sheet on Dan’s mattress. “You’ll get there,” she sighs.

Dan is a little afraid to tell her that he is starting to suspect he was supposed to buy extra-long sheets. He goes to help her anyway, and he thinks about what she said. His mouth tugs up involuntarily.

He has to admit, it took him and Phil longer to get to where they are than it reasonably should have. Especially considering the fact that, apparently, everyone knew how in love they were long before they did. Dan thinks it’s okay though. All that matters is that they got there eventually.

And when he thinks about the future — about moving in with Phil, chasing their dreams together, maybe even getting married one day — he is neither impatient nor afraid. Things always have a way of working out, Phil tells him, and Dan is excited to see where the next chapter of their lives will bring them.

Wherever it is, Dan has a feeling that getting there will be a great adventure.


End file.
